Creepy Explorations: Volume 1 (Lemon)
by XxHotGarbagexX
Summary: Noah is an (un)lucky boy fascinated with horror, and has channeled his passion through his Creepy Exploration series. You get to follow him through his found footage as he's terrorized and perved on by all sorts of horror icons, from the SCP Foundation to the Dark Web.
1. Chapter 1: Site-19

The footage begins and you're treated to the headshot of a pasty, gentle-looking teenager. The background is sparse, but what can be made out is the urban landscape of a city street during a chilly night, evident by the ambient breeze and faint fog in the boy's breaths as he speaks in a shy voice.

 _"Hey guys, Noah here! So, uhm, this is the first time I've done this so just please bear with me... I was riding the bus the other day and couldn't help but notice this creepy-looking subway we passed. According to Google Maps, this place doesn't exist. I searched for hours and couldn't find any information on it. No names, no records, no documents, nothing. I'm kinda a horror geek so naturally this kind of stuff is right up my alley, and I figured why not make one of those Creepy Exploration videos on it? I hope to make this a series if I can find enough places to explore, but I'll see how you guys like it first!...if anyone's even out there..."_

The camera twists around and it stays that way for the rest of the video so you can see everything through the eyes of Noah. Roughly, at least. He lazily lets the camera hang for a couple seconds so all you can bask in are his tennis shoes as they walk across a cold sidewalk. He turns the corner and the ground suddenly shifts to a staircase made of concrete and metal, reaching downwards to an abyss. Noah picks the camera up so you get to stare the uninviting darkness in its eyes.

 _"I doubt you guys want to see everything color-washed with green the whole video,"_ Noah assumes so softly it's almost a whisper, with billows of heavy breath trailing out from beneath the camera, _"so I thought proactively and brought my phone!"_

A black smartphone wrapped in the pale fingers of Noah's right hand, tips reddened by the cold, rises into the right corner of the shot, and the darkness is instantly flushed from existence by the flick of its flashlight. The illumination is weak, but it gets the job done. Noah descends down the stairs, each step making a scrape of concrete against the rubber white soles of his shoes. Once he reaches the foot of the well and takes you deep underground, pillars and dust-drenched benches are strewn about a dark, endless-looking basement. The railroads are revealed to be completely empty by Noah shining his light into the blackened trenches and peering the camera over its edges.

 _"I'm looking for a logo. What creeps me out most about this dump is how it's not registered under a single railway company, so...be on the look out,"_ he awkwardly tries to make the show seem interactive.

He meanders through the many chipped pillars and makes sure to linger on them for a couple seconds to capture the graffiti.

 _"Well, there's some signs of life, at least,"_ he quietly foot-notes.

Next the amateur cameraman stumbles upon a gaping, albeit boarded up, doorway, with a sign marked "MAINTENANCE" above its frame. There's just enough room for someone like Noah to squeeze underneath one of the "cell bars", so to speak, of wood.

 _"Oh man, this is so illegal..."_ he hesitates before dipping down to his knees. _"Good thing I'm as small as a frickin' kid,"_ he mumbles bitterly, such little volume that it's hardly picked up by the microphone.

He snakes through the doorway, the creaking of his sweatclothes providing some incidental ASMR, and rises back to his feet on the other side. The "maintenance" part of the depot has a much different aesthetic from the public half. While the station's face was an atrium of brick-and-mortar floors and dirty white tiled walls, its insides look to be a network of hallways. Everything is hospital-esque in its crystal white pristine, stylishly accented with a modest black. Noah puts the most attention, however, on a blurry bold logo installed upon the plaster walls.

 _"Oh, I finally found one! This must be the company that owned this place!"_

The camera focuses.

 _"SCP FOUNDATION"_

 _"The SCP Foundation...never heard of it...Not that I'm a subway company expert or anything. Let me look it up real quick."_

Noah films himself Google'ing the mysterious organization only to get an error webpage.

 _"Oh right, there's probably no service down here. Guess the only way is forward..."_ he says, timidity more transparent than usual.

He continues down the lightless, claustrophobic corridors, sneakers squeaking with every step on the hard tile floor, until he gasps, stops dead in his tracks, and goes as silent as a church mouse. There's a motionless, soundless pause, almost like the video froze.

 _"Do you hear that?"_ he whispers.

The camera's mediocre sound quality aren't as potent as Noah's own ears, so he has to move a couple paces forward until the microphone finally picks up what he's hearing. There's a very faint alarm in the distance, just barely heard through the outskirts of the hallways.

 _"It sounds like a siren...that's the last thing I'd expect to hear down here._ _I think I might've found something I wasn't supposed to..._ _"_

Noah's slow, sight-seeing stroll escalates to a power walk, as if he's been caught by the call of the alarm and reeled in like a fish. Finally, doors start appearing alongside the subsidiary piping you've been seeing. At first mere supply closets, nothing to make a whole video on, but at last Noah hits the jackpot in the form of a messy office. The ray of his light washes up upon the desk, chairs, and filing cabinets, some tipped over, like the waves of the ocean upon a beach. One of the drawers in a cabinet is torn wide open to reveal it packed with hefty yellow envelopes. After pocketing his phone, Noah's hand crawls back into view to pluck a file out from the array and brandish its bold red "CLASSIFIED" stamp. You can barely hear a gulp come from behind the camera as Noah flips the envelope open to bask in all the white documents it contains. Noah vocally skims the top secret files one by one under his breath as the siren still slightly rages in the background.

 _"This containment facility is codenamed Site-19, under the public front of a shut down metro station..."_

He flips to the next page. A block of text is accompanied by a picture of a shapely shadow that looks to be an excerpt from grainy CCTV footage.

 _"SCP-106, nicknamed by personnel as 'The Old Woman', is an...aggressive humanoid entity covered in a corrosive dark goo that allows it to...phase through walls...said by the head of its research team Doctor...something,"_ he substitutes the censored name, struck out by a black marker, _"to have the mind of a cunning, sadistic...sexual predator?!"_

He retreats a couple pages forward. This document has a picture of similar quality, illustrating a concrete female mannequin that looks to be locked up in some sort of holding cell, like a prisoner.

 _"SCP-173, nicknamed by personnel as 'The Sculpture' is a statue that appears to be animate and possibly...sapient? It responds to humans with deadly aggression...What the heck are these files talking about?!"_

He wildly thumbs through the stack of papers in a desperate attempt to find something to make sense of.

 _"SCP-049, The Plague Doctor, SCP-096, The Shy Girl, SCP-682, The...Hard-To-Destroy Reptile?! This has to be some kind of joke..."_

Noah's rummaging around in the Area 51 stand-in is interrupted by a bubbling, visceral gurgle heard out the right side of your headphones. The camera turns to the unearthly sound, coming from a massive black stain in the wall that certainly wasn't there before. What looks to be the pellucid shadow of a voluptuous woman, just like the one from the documents, gorily peels itself from the grimy plaster, plopping to the floor and sticking the wet-sounding landing. This is all caught by a camera so dead-still it could be mistaken for being tripod-mounted, but as it turns out, the cameraman is just that frozen in his shoes with an ice cold terror as some Lovecraftian abomination manifests before his very eyes. Noah finally moves, but it's a mere step back, which gets caught on one of the collapsed filing cabinets so both him and the camera come tumbling to the ground. The camcorder slides across the floor, lands in the doorway, and happens to catch a wide shot of Noah on his back cowering in the shadow of SCP-106, smiling from ear to ear in a toothy and twisted grin. You finally get to see the face of Noah's horror. His eyes and mouth are as wide as can be, and sweat drains from his pores. Shaking out of his fearful paralysis, he rolls over onto his side and tries bolting for the door, but 106 catches him by his ankle and rips him back down. His hand crashes down onto the camera.

 _" **OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!** "_ Noah blows out the mic with his screams for mercy. _" **NO NO NO! SOMEBODY HELP ME!** "_

106's choke around his foot excretes the goo that covers her from head to toe, engulfing his right sneaker with black. Then the watery growth starts moving up his pantleg, slowly swallowing him like darkness itself as he shrieks and blubbers in overwhelming terror. It engulfs his legs, then his torso, then his head to muffle his cries, before finally snaking up his outstretched arms and around the camera as he desperately clings on it with nothing else left. Everything is ingested by black, leaving only the red "REC" icon and white border overlay against the void.

The last noise the camera picks up is a deep yet feminine, throaty giggle, surely gurgling out the inhuman throat of SCP-106.


	2. Chapter 2: Keter Class

Noah and the camera being cocooned with sludge have only transported the two to a place most certainly not of our world. Far, far from our world, in fact. A room where every texture is just a blackened rust that seems to have suffered centuries of excessive weathering and dilapidation. A place that looks like it shouldn't even be standing, that it should've crumbled away to dust centuries ago. Noah stirs around and acts as if he's just awoken from a long slumber; checking if everything's still intact after the black slime bath, rubbing his eyes, and absorbing in his nightmarish new surroundings with an uneasy awe. He's atop some type of coffin, an elevated rectangle of solid stone. It's probably the only remotely clean thing for miles. Before he's able to leave his "bed" to explore this Pocket Dimension, 106 appears out of no where, straddling him and pinching his chin with a choke-like hold so he can't even scream from the shock of the jumpscare.

The gesture is almost...playful and romantic, in the most twisted and bastardized sense possible. Now that she's up close and personal, you're treated to an in-your-face voice of this ungodly thing. She's dressed in nothing but a featureless biker vest that nearly blends into her dark skin. Otherwise she's buck naked, which exposes much of her...mature body. Not elderly as her nickname implies, just perfectly developed muscles and...assets dangling right above Noah's face, out the window of her vest. With his head firmly in her grasp, The Old Woman drags her tongue all the way across his face, leaving a trail of dirty-colored saliva behind. She sniffs his shaggy mane of black hair like the creepy eldritch sexual predator she is and whispers in a distorted voice:

 _"Y **o** U **r** H **a** I **r** S **m** E **l** L **s** S **o** N **i** C **e**..."_

She moves her hand down to her crotch as if she's about to start pleasuring herself, but instead nips the zipper on Noah's jeans and begins prying them downwards with a drawn-out, gut-whisking rip. Her fingers crawl into his waistband, burrowing deep beneath his briefs before yanking the bottom half of his clothes straight to his knees, exposing much of his pale legs as they glisten with heavy sweat. The goo girl's inky thighs move forward and tighten to imprison everything below his belly button, and naturally, their two exposed genitalia lock from the sexual position. A flabby slit that's hard to distinguish from her shadowy crotch swallows Noah's tiny, completely flaccid penis, though it can still be clearly seen through her slimy, translucent skin. She pins his wrists to the tomb he lies upon before working her hips up and down, wetly slapping her black bubble butt against his thighs and plunging his evergrowing cock in and out of her. You get to see every last grisly detail of each cervical thrust thanks to the X-ray view provided by her limpid flesh.

Noah's head jerks back and he lets a whimpery moan escape his windpipe, most certainly confused out of his mind from the conflicting sensations. A wanting animal, 106 starts panting the deeper and deeper she gets into Noah's rape thanks to the swelling of his erection as more blood cells fearfully flood to his crotch. The camera begins to rhythmically tremble and shake with the fierce pounding The Old Woman is unleashing upon Noah's brittle body. He tries to form words, probably pleas for her to stop, but the bizarre tingles torturing his groin have effectively muted the poor boy, and just when things couldn't get anymore intense, his eyes clench shut and he grinds the back of his head into his bed as his pleasure reaches its apex. The camera slips from his sweaty grasp and clatters to the floor, so all you can see is the ashy ceiling and the side of the coffin as Noah's immodest orgasm echoes for miles.

 _" **OOOOOooHHHHH GOOOooOOD!~** "_

What follows is labored breathing and a soupy white oozing down the casket's rock wall. Wet shifting can be heard, probably 106 dismounting from Noah so he can weakly slope off his tomb and roll onto the camera with a thud. You're treated to a lavish closeup of his pores as they bleed sweat for a couple seconds before he rises to his hands and knees to give you some breathing room. Wet hair dangles from his scalp and the two strings on his hoodie sway right above you in 3D, before the ashen grime of the ceiling morphs into squeaky clean concrete. Noah grabs the camcorder with one hand and tries pulling himself up with the tomb with the other, when it abruptly morphs into some sort of security console. The gurgling drone of the Pocket Dimension is replaced by a familiar alarm and it becomes apparent that SCP-106 has graciously returned Noah to Site-19, albeit a completely different part of it.

 _"Guys..."_ he shakily addresses, remaining a complete mess whose just now noticed that his pants are still around his legs. _"I don't know...what the heck just happened..."_ he pants as he yanks his trousers back to his waist and dumps black goop out his ears and shoes like he just got out of the pool. _"But..."_

...

 _"... **I think I just lost my virginity**..._ _I don't know where I am...I have no idea where that...thing decided to put me..."_

He looks around for a couple seconds before speaking into the camera again. _"I think...I think she put me deeper in the facility...I need to get out of here..."_

The camcorder returns to a first-person perspective so the room is visually fleshed out. Seems like a test room, with a window peering into a locked off chamber and a bunch of high-tech machinery like consoles, security monitors, and terminals. He takes a single shaky step forward and immediately fires back with a girlish scream when a heart-stopping crash explodes throughout the room. The lights flicker a bit and the window is shattered open. Amidst the pond of jagged glass is the thing that busted into the test room. A feminine and curvaceous humanoid only a little taller than Noah, completely naked to show its skin a smooth stone texture colored a weathered beige. Its body is dead still, pose-less, and featureless, like a mannequin. Well, featureless aside from a "mask" of red, black, and green stains, arranged just enough to form a cute face. It stands immobile yet menacingly, staring the cameraman down with its facial of spray paint.

 _"Wait! I know this!"_ he breathlessly explains. _"The document...this is The Sculpture! It said all I have to do is look at it and it won't hurt-"_

The camcorder flickers with static for just a millisecond, and in that millisecond, the SCP is somehow entire meters closer to Noah. He squeaks in a startled terror, you can hear his heart nearly bust through his ribcage from behind the camera, and he stumbles back.

 _"What?! Why isn't it wor-?!"_

Another jolt of white noise and 173 is almost face-to-face with the cameraman. Noah keeps the video recorder on him whilst fearfully glaring straight ahead to the beast like he's having a staring contest with it.

 _"Wh-...oh God...it can move when I blink..."_ Noah grimly realizes as he cautiously backs up while keeping his eyes wide open.

He gets a couple steps behind him before hitting a wall. He almost instinctively turns his head to look for a way out, but he manages to stop his reflexes just in time to keep his vision trained on the creature. He slowly slides down the wall, blindly feeling around for something, anything, hope. Tears begin to stream down his face while his eyes begin to redden and strain, just as his palm lands upon a big crimson button neatly installed onto the wall. He steps a little closer to it to reveal an accompanying door.

Blackness suddenly engulfs the screen.

The facility's been struck by a power outage, it seems.

The camera automatically goes to night-vision and the whole screen is filled with a green-tinted headshot of SCP-173 teleporting inches from Noah's face. The camera plummets to the floor so you're treated to a view at the tips of Noah's sneakers, peering upwards in between the legs of both him, and 173. She has his forearms pinned to the wall by each side of his head. Now that the boy is essentially blindfolded by the blackout, she's free to move anything she wants. She exercises her newfound freedom by having her tongue escape from her lips just to invade Noah's mouth, muffling his whimpers of terror. Two tongues can be seen violently wrestling and wriggling underneath Noah's cheeks, and The Sculpture's hands move from his wrists to his chest to tear his hoodie wide open and reveal his bare torso, so moist you can see it glimmer from all the way down here. She hunches over and molests his nipples by churning them through the squeeze of her thumbs and making them bounce like doorstoppers with the flicks of her tongue. Noah bites down on his sleeves and shrieks with a shuddery, unwanted satisfaction as droplets continue to boil in his eyes. 173 moves down to the third and final floor by getting on her knees and unzipping Noah's jeans, letting his inchworm hang out from the fly.

She scoops it up with her tongue and toothlessly chews on it for a couple seconds, forcing it to harden into a proper erection. Her head bobs back and forth, and every time you're treated to an undershot of Noah's shaft getting harder and wetter with every thrust. He digs his fingernails into the wall his back is grinding against and you can see his little scrotum start to quake and rumble as he howls in ecstasy. 173's cheeks puff out as much as they can, until they begin to quiver, like they're about to burst. Greenified-white starts to trickle down 173's chin, and she finally caves. A cascade of cum comes raining down onto the camera's screen, completely splattering it with a very light olive. All that can be perceived by you through the messy camera now is Noah's exhausted quivering coming from five feet above. The mask of cum staining the screen is swept up by 173 dragging her index finger across the lens before shoving it in her mouth like she's tasting cake batter, freeing you from blindness. Before The Sculpture can continue her molestation of the cameraman, a bellowing, low-quality announcement screeches across the whole facility through an unseen PA system.

 _" **ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL OF SITE-19: MOBILE TASK FORCE UNIT NINE-TAILED FOX HAS ENTERED THE FACILITY.** "_


	3. Chapter 3: Containment Breach

Muffled but heavy footsteps come stomping down the hall from behind the wall Noah is pinned against. The metal door swoops open and five soldiers spill in one-by-one, dressed from head to toe in bulky navy and black combat armor and outfitted with all sorts of gnarly firearms. 173, and to a lesser extent Noah, are frozen in place as they're bathed in almost half a dozen taclights spewing from the barrels of all the trained rifles.

 _"Attention command,"_ an operative barks into their shoulder radio, revealing her voice to be unmistakably female despite the weathered huskiness. _"We've located and cornered SCP-173. Beginning recontainment protocol now._ " She hangs up. _"Ready the cage!"_

Two of the MTF agents behind her sling off their military backpacks and rummage around for several sticks of rebar, two red circular disks, and four small office chair wheels. As they assemble the compact cage around the paralyzed SCP-173, the remaining three soldiers surround Noah as he cowers on the floor.

 _"Who the hell are you?"_ one of them remarks as she scoops the camera up off the floor, curiously inspecting it and filling the screen with her ski-masked face and helmeted head.

 _"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON! I just stumbled upon this messed up place through the subway!"_ Noah pleads as he cups his crotch.

 _"A...civilian? How the hell did a civilian manage to get in here? Whatever, we'll just check the security feed. Get this kid out of here,"_ she commands one of her subordinates as she hands her the camera, _"then administer light amnesiacs. Make sure to destroy this camera too..."_

 _"Wait,"_ her squadmate interrupts. _"Can I see the two of you in private?"_

She gets the three in a group huddle in the corner of the room, and the camera is left on a console countertop, allowing you, but not Noah or the other soldiers, to hear their quiet conversation.

 _"Do you girls see this kid?"_

 _"...What about him?"_

 _"I'm getting soaking wet just being in the same room with him..."_

 _"Jesus..."_ she rolls her eyes in disgust.

 _"When's the last time any of us have gotten laid, with a job like this?"_

 _"And just what the hell are you suggesting?"_

 _"Seriously, tell me the last time you got off."_

 _"..."_ Neither can answer.

 _"Exactly! We're gonna wipe his memory right after anyways, the cameras are down in this zone, and he's just a horny kid, he'll love it. It's a victimless crime!"_

 _"But it's so unprofessional..."_

 _"It'll take 3 minutes tops. C'mon now, we don't have much time."_

 _"...Fine... fine, we'll fuck the kid, get it over with, and wipe him. In and out."_

They return to the center of attention, where by now the rest of Nine-Tailed-Fox has 173 fully encaged and ready for transferral.

 _"Dismissed, ladies,"_ the squad leader shoos out the few scrupulous troops. _"We'll take it from here."_

The two extra soldiers wheel the imprisoned statue away, leaving behind only a trio of armed-to-the-teeth thots and Noah. A couple of the MTFs unbuckle their belts, kick off their boots, and let their navy cargo pants slip off their brawny, tanned legs.

 _"Whoa!"_ Noah exclaims, face going red as two strapping women undress without warning right before his eyes. _"M-Ma'ams, I-I-!"_

Noah is shoved onto the top of a terminal and the two bottomless soldiers crawl up onto him as they spread him out and pop some squats over him. The first one, dipping her crotch down in his face, shuts Noah's confused cries up by shoving her vulva in his mouth. The second, hunkered down below his midriff, envelopes his dick as it still hangs out his pants with her sopping bottom lips. The final soldier pops her helmet off and peels away her balaclava, revealing a pair of curled lips she licks in perversion before getting on her kneepads and spreading the second MTF's asscheeks wide open as they gently ride Noah so she can invade her crack with her tongue.

Meanwhile, the first soldier cradles the boy's head with both her hands and her thighs as she forces him to eat her out, completely careless that she's smothering the poor kid with her pussy in the progress. The second Nine-Tailed-Fox grunt is having the time of her life, getting her vagina stuffed with dick and her ass stuffed with tongue side by side. The third soldier plunges a hand down into the waistband of her pants and churns her clitoris as she rims her sister-in-arms. All three perverts engage in a beautiful chorus of quivering moans and euphoric gasps, and by some miracle, four orgasms go off at once with nigh-flawless timing.

One nearly drowns Noah, another wettens the crotch of a certain pair of indigo combat pants, and the last two mix together in the second soldier's womb. The three women's faces scorch crimson with guilt and embarrassment as the arousal washes away and they realize they just gangraped a teenage boy whilst on duty. They quickly and awkwardly scramble their clothes back on to censor their red hot sweating bodies, leaving Noah to writhe atop the console dashboard in a puddle of four separate cumshots, gasping for air after just have been waterboarded by vaginal discharge.

 _"I can't believe you talked me into that..."_ a troop bitterly mumbles as she ties her boots.

 _"Let's just wipe the kid's memory and go, okay?"_

One of the agents fishes a drippy syringe out from her utility belt and flicks it dry.

 _"Er, sorry about...all of this, kid..."_ she bashfully apologizes to Noah as she readies to inject him.

 _"W-What's that needle for?"_ Noah asks, completely out of it after having been fucked 3 times by 5 separate women in less than 20 minutes.

 _"Almost forgot the camera,"_ another soldier remembers as she draws her sidearm and aims it right at you.

Right before the whole Creepy Explorations series is ruined by Noah getting his memory wiped and his camera getting destroyed, the operatives are nearly shook off their feet from the entire facility trembling like an earthquake by a beastly roar that sounds a mere few rooms away...

 _"Oh fuck...that can't be what I think it is!"_ an MTF grimly gasps as she rushes out the test room, cocked pistol in hand.

The patter of something that sounds 300 pounds can be heard getting closer and closer, along with...chains rattling? The source of action is deep in the blurry background but it looks like some kind of...green tendril spears her through the chest, slicing through her black Kevlar vest like hot butter. Blood explodes out through her back and mask and her corpse, or near-corpse at least, is then flung down the hallway out frame. Her two partners-in-crime march out in pursuit, only to get slaughtered by a big jade blur. Their necks are ripped open and their limbs are torn off in geysers of gore as their fingers mash down on the triggers and blind you with the muzzle flashes of their machine guns.

Upon hearing the hellish cacophony of screaming, snarling, and gunfire, Noah shoot up off the table and finally stuffs his glistening dick away as he sprints over to the camera. It feels nice to finally be held by Noah again. He twists around and sees only a glimpse of the literal bloodbath erupting from outside before retreating through the window The Sculpture crashed through, wincing as he gets cut by the jagged glass. He cowers in the cramp darkness of a broke-down airlock as he sweatily and breathlessly addresses you face-to-face.

 _"Oh God, this terrible place is only getting worse and worse!"_ he whines. _"And my jeans are so frickin' stained with cum, Mom's gonna kill me!"_ Skewed priorities there, Noah.

The massacre from outside goes dead quiet, and so does Noah. There's a heavy pause before he shrieks and turns the camera around to show what he's seeing: a monstrously large, muscular silhouette perched in the same empty window sill, head shape certainly not human and tendril-like tail smoothly wagging behind it. Half-broken shackles swing from its wrists; the ineffective handcuffs of an escaped leviathan. It lashes out like an angered cobra and Noah has just enough reflexes to roll out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting pounced on by a jacked up wild animal. Noah's fist takes up the center of the screen as it bangs on the airlock door in his desperate escape of his cornering by a rabid SCP. It's sealed shut, however, just as a black vapor is exhaled out from the piping of the upper walls, flooding the airlock with decontamination gas.

Cloud-like billows of smoky fumes infest the screen as it fumbles through the checkpoint. The cameraman's fearful coughs rasp from behind the camera before the smoke finally dissipates, giving you a crystal clear view of Noah's new roommate: SCP-682, The Hard-to-Destroy Reptile. Despite being a monster, its shape is distinctively feminine, with wide hips, thick thighs, a small waistline, and a fat chest of mammaries. Its skin is a smooth dark green and its head is rotten of all flesh, revealing a sharp, snouted animal's skull with big black and yellow eyes preying upon the boy beyond the camcorder. Its bony muzzle, talon-like nails, and long prehensile tail are all fresh with the blood of Nine-Tailed-Fox. Before Noah can even react to the humanoid beast towering over him by 2 entire feet, she plunges both her fists underneath the camera like she's about to rip his heart out.

His ensuing scream strikes your ears. But instead, a fierce tearing of fabric is heard, soon followed by the tattered ribbons of Noah's hoodie scattering in the air like confetti, now dyed red thanks to 682's "war-paint" getting everywhere. The impact of the harmless attack shoves the brittle Noah straight to the cold floor, making the camera rumble with tremendous force. Noah's hyperventilated whimpers of confused terror are interrupted by a sharp but heavy gasp escaping from his throat and his whole body jerking like someone punched him in the gut from 682 lazily plopping down on him. She's sat on the boy with her back to the camera while pinning him to the ground with a pair of green buttcheeks so big they engulf a fourth of his half-naked body.

 _"Unngh..."_ Noah groans in an ache. _"I...I think she's friendly! To me, at least..."_ he thinks twice about calling the blood-drenched horror movie monster 'friendly'.

The outline of Noah's dick pressing up against the inside of his trousers can be seen snaking through 682's buttocks. The warm, welcoming pressure makes it harden and grow, and soon, her whole once vacant crack is now filled to the brim. 682 looks back and shoots the camera a foxy and alluring stare, which accents the permanent smile of her exposed skull. Her razor-tipped thumbs gently slip into Noah's waistband and slide his bottom away from the camera, dragging over his genitalia like a tractor clearing a field. Noah's rock hard dick finally catapults backwards and flops down onto his crotch once his pants and underwear are pulled down far enough, so the once clothed plugging of 682's buttcrack becomes full on interspecies penetration. The scene is shot like a POV porno, with the Hard-to-Kill Reptile giddily bouncing atop the cameraman's dick in the reverse cowgirl position. Noah tries to question the creature's actions but she gets him fucked silly within seconds.

Most of the frame is taken up by 682's bubbles as they loudly and sloppily slap down against not only Noah's waist, but a good chunk of his thighs and abs too, since they're so damn mammoth. The manacles squeezing the Reptile's wrists clatter and clang as they whip up and down with her frisky movements. Noah's arm reaches out and grabs a squishy handful of one of the flesh bubbles, in a weak attempt at wrangling the beast's fiery performance in the sack. Like a marshmallow splattering all over the walls of a microwave, a visceral and masculine cumshot erupts from inside 682. Noah's claw-like latch he has on 682's right cheek weakly slides off, leaving behind five circular imprints buried deep in the blubber-like skin. The SCP continues to soothe Noah with a warm and inviting gaze, but her eyes suddenly go wide with rage as she hears the distinctive stomping and radio chatter of more MTFs from the other side of the airlock. The camera captures 682's transformation from playful pet (that admittedly needs to be spayed and neutered) to Jurassic Park villain in seconds.

She rockets off the boy and breaks the sealed, metal airlock door down with her bare hands, tearing it to chunks and firing out into the tunnel to continue her rampage. Noah's limp legs and the steel door frame all serve as borders for another cinematic glimpse at 682 vs. Nine-Tailed Fox, but in the end it's just two navy blurs streaking past the door and firing off muzzle flashes at a much bigger, hot-in-pursuit haze of emerald. Then, as the gunfire and chain rattling draw too far away to hear, nothing. Just the silhouettes of Noah's feet laying in the light of the rest of Site-19. The only movement in sight is his now bare chest frantically surging up and down, before it gradually slows down to a regular rate. Noah takes one last deep breath and swallow to brace himself to scramble to his feet and venture beyond the airlock, out the exit 682 oh so thoughtfully carved for him. The architecture of this side of the facility is noticeably different. This time it's darker and more cylindrical and industrial, like maintenance tunnels.

 _"I feel like I'm only getting deeper and deeper into this godforsaken place..."_ Noah hopelessly snivels as he forces himself to continue forward with no where else to go.


	4. Chapter 4: Euclid Class

Noah's footsteps rake dozens of bronze bullet casings across the grated flooring, remnants of the earlier firefight between The Hard-to-Kill Reptile and her captors. Noah wanders through a maze of grungy barrel-shaped corridors, forced to listen to the haunting ambiance in the background. First a metallic creaking echoing through the bones of Site-19, like the facility itself and its belly rumbling as Noah's exploration of it disturbs it, then more gunfire, roaring, alarms, and intercom announcements, all too far off in the distance to discern. The darkness of the tunnels are eye-wrenching and ugly, and put a pit in your stomach all the way from the safety of your device. You can't imagine what Noah's feeling right about now, actually being knees-deep in a situation this dire.

He manages to stumble upon and settle in a slightly more welcoming, normal-looking hallway. A silver bench was once installed upon the wall, but is now slowly sinking into the floor through a pit of ebony goo like quicksand; a bleak reminder of Noah's run-in with SCP-106. She's been here, either before or after her defilement of Noah in the Pocket Dimension. A vague, gloomy, ambient buzzing can be heard from the next room over, along with the distinctive sobs of a...woman! Lucky for you and Noah, there's a CCTV monitor broadcasting security camera footage of that very room, to give you some visual insight to the strange audio. The feed is grainy and small, but it looks to be a naked girl curled up in a ball in the middle of an otherwise empty lockroom.

 _"Oh, thank God, someone normal, for once!"_ Noah sighs in relief, rushing into the room to meet a fellow survivor.

The lockroom is tinted red by emergency lights, contrasting with the chalk-white pigmentation of the crying girl, her back to Noah. Her milky skin and utter baldness makes her seem like an unnatural, cadaverous humanoid sucked of all its color and left a hollow husk.

 _"Don't worry, I won't hurt you like all of the other creeps in this place,"_ Noah gently assures the balled-up figure. _"Please don't cry!"_

It pretends as if he doesn't exist, continuing to weep and buzz like it's her biological purpose. After a short pause awaiting a nonexistent response, Noah takes a couple steps closer, reaching his hand out to place upon the girl's shoulder.

 _"Do you know a way out of-?"_

The second the chill of the creature's skin contact sweeps up Noah's fingers, its head half jerks around and one of her eyes is shown. It's solid white, just like her skin. No pupils, just scathing balls of nothing with one pissed off expression. Its entire body twists around so she can finally bare her gangly, rake-like fingers, deeply stained in blood so fresh the murder must've happened mere minutes again in this very room. But where's the body? Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Noah has already managed to provoke SCP-096, The Shy Girl. She buries her face into her reddened palms and the buzzing starts to reach around to the back of your head, like her anger is seeping through your screen and penetrating the backdoor of your brain. Again, if you're this affected by a mere recording of this atmosphere, you can't fathom how a wimp like Noah managed to handle it in person. The buzzing escalates in volume, and with it her miserable howls. The sorrow in her bawling evolves to a rage, a fiery tantrum that Noah slowly backs away from upon realizing he's awoken a sleeping giant.

 _"Wait, n-no, I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to upset you!"_ Noah implores.

But it's like begging a ticking timebomb to defuse itself. 096 lets out one final roar of monstrous anger before outstretching her freakish claws and charging Noah down. He fires out the lockroom and retraces his steps through the network of tunnels he's lost himself in. The camera whips and teeters side to side, back and forth, thanks to the wild sprints of the one handling it, so the visuals of the hunt are shaky and disorienting, but the sounds are all you need to be painted a picture of this nerve-racking chase scene. The unruly and terrified panting of Noah from above the camera, the heavy pitter-patter of his sneakers against the hard metal floor from below, and the demonic hollering of 096 from behind, which sounds like the gates of Hell themselves opening. He sees a white, rectangular doorway in the distance, a literal light at the end of the tunnel. He picks up the pace and barrels through the "finish-line", before turning around and almost tackling the red button to seal the door shut. 096's screams dissipate into the muffled background and Noah buries his back into the white SCP symbol on the door's center as his hyperventilation slows down to some mere labored breathing.

...

The bloodied fist of a pale arm punches straight through the door like it's nothing, narrowly missing Noah's ribs. He kicks himself up off the wall with a scream and twists around as the door is blown clean off its hinges by the bare sole of SCP-096. She dashes forward and sweeps Noah to the floor with her wicked, spindly fingers, slicing through his pants in the progress. If 682 began Noah's undressing by mauling his hoodie, 096 finished the job by tearing the jeans from his legs with a single mighty swipe, reducing him down only to his briefs and socks as his shoes slip off in the fall. The camera lands right on his gut, pointing at his head so you get a sense at how his belly-button feels. With her prey paralyzed, The Shy Girl's shins stomp into frame and she towers above him so he's at her mercy.

From your perspective, it looks like Noah is gawking at the unseen top of a big upside down V made of pastel skin. She squats down and fiercely inspects him, filling much of the shot with her ass as it hangs right over Noah's naked chest. He has his eyes clenched and looks to be swallowing every wave of fear that tries scaling up his throat. He apparently remembers reading that unlike 106, a creature no different in personality from the worst of humanity, 096 is just a scared and easily provoked animal. If he were to pitch a fit like the rest of her many past victims upon realizing they're doomed, the paste on her fingers for example, she'd panic and tear him to shreds. But he manages to stay calm and soothe 096 with his quiet docility. Her fuming anger slows and cools to a halt, and she rises back out of her squat to give Noah some breathing room. His expression further widens before tensing up, bracing for some unseen impact you're out of the loop of.

A stream comes raining down onto his face.

You inherently assume The Shy Girl is pissing on Noah like what a dog does to mark its territory, but the liquid is thick and crystal clear, and the distinctive squelches of several fingers plowing her vagina can be heard from above along with soft moans of ecstasy. She's pouring a pitcher of pussy juice down his throat straight from the source. He jerks his head and sputters like a child trying to avoid its spoonfeeding, but entire ounces of the stuff still manage to infiltrate his stomach since the cascade is so torrential. Trying to avoid a mouthful of vaginal discharge when a girl like 096 is concerned would be as fruitful as trying to dodge raindrops in a thunderstorm. After she's done emptying herself and "claiming" Noah, she lowers back into a squat that evolves into a straddle. Her ass comes sliding towards the camera like a bulldozer, shoving it off Noah's belly so it tumbles down to the floor, in the gap between his legs. His underwear too make way for 096's rear as it conquers Noah's waistline and they park on his thighs, behind the camera. For once, Noah's balls seem big in this excessive closeup, but The Shy Girl's plump buttcheeks come sliding over his cock to steal the show. Slurps and giggles can be heard from a distance, likely 096 licking Noah's face clean whilst her hips start crashing down on his waist over and over. All you can see are some of Noah's thighs and his genitals as they're wrung and trampled on by two white moons. The hot colorful lighting of the red emergency sirens raining down onto our stars's sweaty skin reminds you of a strip club's atmosphere.

Due to the being a single inch from the action, you don't get to see much, like 096 warmly hugging and clinging onto Noah as she fucks him, but ultimately you see all you need. The rawest and most simplistic porn imaginable, just two genitalia, four legs, and two butts getting fervent and sloppy with one another. Noah's "mnf~'s" get louder and louder with every rebound, before finally reaching its climax with a shout of satisfaction. Semen comes splattering out the two clung-together crotches with incredible force and capacity. The thrusting stops and all movement on screen comes to a screeching halt as 096 cuddles with the boy offscreen for about half a minute. She then rises out of frame, leaving just a shot of cum pouring down the veins of Noah's high and mighty erection and pooling around the floor where his sack sits to soak it with white. His scrotum is literally stewing in its own juices. It's unbelievable how after five orgasms in one night, Noah's cumshots are still so astronomical in size. As a matter of fact, they only seem to get bigger. The kid writhes in fatigue for the rest of the minute before the camera is plucked up, finally freeing it from a lengthy long take by moving up to his face. He's a complete mess compared to how he was at the beginning of the video. In the beginning, out in the front of the subway, he was standing, controlled, idle, and neatly groomed and dressed. Now, his hair is scraggly, his pores are running out of sweat to excrete, his skintone is unhealthy, he's sitting in a puddle of his own cum, and he's stripped down to nothing but a pair of underwear around his knees.

He fits the camera to his POV and weakly struggles to his feet. 096 is off huddled in the corner, returned to her docile state. The only difference now from when the first time we've met her in that lockroom is that she isn't crying anymore. For the first time in the Foundation's history, someone's managed to not only quiet her cries but completely fizzle out her once inescapable, murderous rage. Noah has made SCP history as 096's first human survivor and no one will ever know it, not even himself since he can't even comprehend what's around him. Noah pulls his briefs back up with his free hand and starts shambling out the server room. He only gets a couple feet down the tunnel before collapsing from exhaustion all the way into unconsciousness, apparently. The only reason the camera doesn't fly out of his hand from the brutal fall is because his fingers are laced through its hand strap. You're treated to nothing but the dark, concrete, cylindrical wall of a service tunnel for the next couple minutes before something...unfamiliar enters the background noise. The relaxed hums of a woman eerily echo throughout the tunnels and get closer and closer to the camera, until a boot shrouded in a black longcoat stomps into frame for a second. A hand can be heard slapping down onto Noah's ankle and the camcorder starts sliding across the floor as the hums persist in your left ear. Someone, or something, is dragging Noah somewhere.

 _"Ring around the roses, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down..."_

Noah is drawn all through the tunnels on his back and by his foot like a child's toy, before finally getting plopped down onto something soft and squeaky, a thin mattress of sorts. Then a loud creaking is heard, akin to an office chair being adjusted as the camera slowly heightens in bursts as it hangs from Noah's limp fingers by its strap. The next few minutes are just miscellaneous background noises. More humming, the clattering of tools, a sink pouring water into porcelain, before finally Noah starts to stir back to consciousness.

 _"Unngh..."_ he drunkenly groans. _"Where...where am I?"_

 _"Ah, you're awake,"_ the haunting voice of the hum finally speaks. It's a mellow and mature-sounding woman, throat spiced with a faint but still unnatural reverb and classy English accent. _"I hope the cleaning of my workplace didn't disturb you. Anyways, to answer your question, I do believe they called this a storeroom, but now, thanks to...unusual circumstances, I've been using it as my makeshift laboratory. I found you unconscious in the middle of my tunnels, thought I'd do as any good doctor would and give you a quick check-up. In my personal medical opinion, you seem to have been through hours worth of physical strain. It's a miracle you still have the strength to do you're doing, if I'm being perfectly honest..."_

Noah sits up and focuses his camera so you're finally given some crystal clear surroundings: a dimly lit and messily kept operating theater hosted by a figure caped in a coal-colored trenchcoat, hood drawn over a white bird mask so only her big dark puppy dog eyes can be seen; the one sliver of humanity in her appearance.

 _"Do you know how to get out of here?"_ Noah asks.

 _"That's none of your concern. You need rest."_

 _"Who are you?"_

 _"Who am I? Why, I'm...well, the closest thing to a name I've been given any time soon is SCP-049."_

Noah has now completely incidentally plundered through the whole roster of specimen contained at Site-19. _"...You're an SCP?"_

 _"It would appear so."_

 _"You sure don't act like one."_

 _"Well, what do SCPs usually act like?"_

 _"I don't want to talk about it..."_

 _"Understandable. Yes, this is a chaotic place,"_ she sighs as she packs her strange surgical tools away. _"Ever since The Sculpture escaped its confinement in that power failure. Now the whole facility is subject to a, as they call it, 'containment breach'. Worst I've seen in all my years in captivity here. Fortunately, down here in the tunnels, everything is quiet and undisturbed. Mostly. The breach has not proven to be a detriment to my work. As a matter of fact, now that my handlers are...occupied, it gives me a lot more room to experiment."_

 _"...experiment?"_

 _"Oh, you needn't worry, for you don't have The Plague."_

 _"The Plague...wait, you're The Plague Doctor!"_ Noah is the last to realize, firing up off the stretcher. _"I-I read that your touch kills people!"_

She chuckles. _"I've never killed, even harmed, a person in all my years of doctoring. I take the Hippocratic Oath very seriously, as any man or woman of science should. No, my touch doesn't harm, it just sedates them so they're prepared for surgery. Again, you have nothing to worry about anyways, my touch is only effective through skin contact. That's why I dragged you by your stockings here."_

So Noah's socks saved his life. Great.

 _"I still don't like the idea of someone with a touch like that doing a check-up on me..."_

 _"So sorry if I've disturbed you at all. That'd be the last thing I would want to do, to a patient. Especially such an attractive one..."_

 _"...what was that?"_

 _"Oh, it's nothing. You just have a very...young and healthy body, is all. One I envy..."_

 _"You seem plenty pretty to me."_

 _"Nonsense. My prime was over years ago."_

 _"I won't believe that until you take those robes off..."_ There's a short awkward pause and Noah suddenly realizes how perverted he just sounded then. _"I-I MEAN, I didn't mean it like THAT, I-I just..."_

A blush somehow scorches all the way through 049's mask. _"It's...unprofessional to get intimate with a patient but..."_

...

 _"Oh, just fuck me already!"_

049 casts her coat aside like the dramatic shedding of a cloak, revealing a chiseled naked body underneath of silvery pigment. The strange skintone certainly doesn't subtract from the fullness of her muscles and richness of her breasts. The only clothing that's left are her leather gloves, boots, hood, and mask, though you think remember in the glance at her document that those articles of clothing are actually biologically her skin, so despite appearances she's technically naked in her own weird, paranormal way. She lays out on the gurney, stretching her boot-tipped legs as she invites Noah to dig in with the irresistible look in her eye. Noah nervously approaches before grabbing one of her stocky thighs and prying it to the side to give him a full display of her pussy as it drools in anticipation of a plowing.

 _"Don't be shy!"_ she politely assures.

The camera tilts down as Noah unveils the flourishing penis from his undies' fly before sliding it in between the tight lips of her cunt. Her head reaches back and her eyelids constrict as a squeaky moan escapes her pasty, curved beak. Noah anxiously scoots forward until he's balls deep, making her squeal even louder. He grabs a hold of her midriff's side for some leverage before sliding back out, then back in, then back out again. His waist starts to get the hang of it, which seems to make 049's whole year as she digs all ten of her nails into the stretcher's mattress. Her chest deeply inhales and exhales for each few seconds, making her well-sized bosom bounce every time. You can just tell by the watery wanting look in her eyes that she wants to cling onto Noah's hands so bad, but unfortunately must refrain from ever touching him. She instead soothes her grabbiness by seizing both of her own tits and squeezing as hard as she can, just for something to bite down on as Noah fucks her long and hard.

His nuts spank against her buttcrack with every plunge into her womb of hundreds. A high-pitched, trembling cry of overwhelming pleasure starts boiling from 049's lungs, getting louder and louder with every squelch between her legs. Noah starts getting one too, catching it like a virus, and the two hedonistic squeals hit their summit at exactly the same time. Noah gives one last powerful thrust as his thighs quiver from the sheer force of his sixth ejaculation. A muffled squishing can be heard swarming from beneath 049's slate-colored abdomen, so you can just visualize the rush of cum burrowing into her uterus. After barely catching his breath, he withdraws from The Plague Doctor as she feebly heaves in the background like her airway's clogged. Semen, made watery from mixing with her discharge, froths heavily out from 049's gaping pussy, spilling out onto onto the tiled floor. You can tell just by the way Noah stands, breaths, and holds his camera as he conceals his dick back in his briefs that he's on the verge of an asthma attack. You're starting to feel concerned for the poor overworked brat.

 _"Thank you so much, little boy,"_ she breathlessly expresses her gratitude in a tone that sounds like she just got her mind fucking blown. _"Oh, God, I haven't felt like that in centuries... You can get out through an elevator a couple tunnels from here..."_ Her head weakly flops down, completely drained of energy after forcing out those last few sentences. _"Oh God..."_

Noah wastes no time retreating from the Medical Bay with a destination at last to embrace, but stops in the doorway. He lingers for a couple seconds just to place a gentle and friendly goodbye kiss upon The Plague Doctor's bill before bidding her adieu for good by casting himself into the labyrinth of metal catwalks hanging over bottomless pits. He passes a containment chamber labelled by a big biohazard sticker colored with popping yellows, blacks, and whites, one warning of SCP-049 with her mugshots.

 _"Everything's starting to become a blur, guys..."_ Noah admits in his blind limp through the maintenance section. He's came so many times he's starting to lose his vision. _"I need to get out of here while I still have the strength..."_

He hits what looks at first to be a dead-end, in the form of a big ugly blast door blocking his path, dimly lit by a red emergency alarm. But at its shoulder is the elevator 049 spoke of. Noah approaches it and buries his forehead into the wall above its button panel.

 _"Please work, please work, please work..."_ he desperately prays before stamping the 'up' button with his thumb.

The twin sheets of metal swoop open with a weak "Ding!" that makes Noah, traumatized by this grueling night, jump a little. He takes a step in and watches the doors meet again as the lift slowly and shakily slides up its shaft with a raspy whirring in the background. Another "Ding!" is hammered into the cam mic as the doors disappear, now on another floor. Noah stumbles out the elevator, turns a single corner, and the memories immediately come flooding back to the both of you. A hallway of offices, one of which is yawning open and now bleeding black gunk. Right where Noah's sexual misadventure started. You're back at the entrance of Site-19. Oh, the simpler times when you and Noah thought it was just a mere subway depot...

 _"Well guys..._ " Noah begins with a sense of finality in his voice. _"That's it...I looped back on the whole station...it...wasn't what I was expecting, but that's my first Creepy Exploration...so...see you?...I guess?"_

Noah masks the camera with his palm and the 48:07-long video ends.


	5. Chapter 5: A Magical Place

_"Hey guys, Noah here!"_ your host greets once more.

The setting is similar to that of the Creepy Explorations pilot; a cold downtown street in the middle of night, evident by Noah's heavy breath as he addresses his small audience through his cheap hand-held camera.

 _"Yep, I'm back! I was debating on whether or not I should continue this series, seeing how the pilot went, but apparently you guys loved it so here's episode two! So I stayed up all last night researching local urban legends and I found one that was perfect for my Creepy Explorations series. The dark and mysterious story of..."_

Noah turns the camcorder around to reveal he's standing in the shadow of a shut-down restaurant. Its dead LED sign finishes his sentence.

"FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA"

 _"So this was a really successful local pizza place back in the 80s. As a matter of fact, my parents went here all the time when they were kids! But it was shut down in 1993 because of a couple scandals. First, there was...what was it, the Bite of '87? Don't quote me on that, but a customer got their brains scooped out by a malfunctioning animatronic! I personally find that hard to believe but it was all over the news so it must be true! And then, six years later, five kids went missing here, and foul play was suspected by the police. Ultimately, though, the mystery was never solved and the chain went out of business because of all the bad press. And now here we are, over 20 years later. So let's go see what all the commotion was about!"_

Noah begins his trek forward through Fazbear's empty parking lot. He gets right up to the glass door in its front and peeks in, but since it's pitch black, all that can be made out is the vague outline of a big party room. Noah wraps his fingers around the metal crash bar of the entrance and gives it a push. Locked, obviously.

 _"Worth a shot,"_ he mutters before walking across the sidewalk lining the building to get around to its rear.

There, there's a back door marked by an "Employees Only" sign. He gives its bar one good push and miraculously enough, it's unlocked. The door swoops open under his weight and on the other side is a long, desolate corridor with trillions of dust particles sparkling and hanging in the air. The door closes behind Noah, flushing everything with blackness. He fixes that by flicking on his flashlight he had smuggled in his pocket. Not his crappy phone flashlight from last episode, but an actual black torch that provides some decent illumination.

 _"Came prepared this time,"_ he claims with pride as he begins sweeping the hallway.

The floors are checkered and the grime on the cracked walls are covered by extravagant posters advertising the chain's mascots. A purple bunny named Bonnie, a yellow chicken named Chica, and who can forget the face and name of the whole establishment Freddy Fazbear, a brown...well, you know. They're all thick feminine robotic furries, with curves and chests that would never pass for children's entertainment today. Their faces glow with innocent happiness, and they're each decked out with all sorts of cute little accessories. For example, Freddy's in a classic black top hat and bow-tie, Bonnie's rocking out with a red electric guitar and matching bow-tie, and Chica's distended bosom is censored by a white bib yelling "LET'S EAT!" while she holds out a dish of pink sweets.

 _"They look so young and happy in these old posters, but I'd hate to see how they're holding up now,"_ Noah remarks as he shines his light upon the garish posters, acting as if the Fazbear Band are less like retired machines and more like washed up celebrities.

Cobwebs stretch across the corners and tendril-like wires spill out of the ceiling. Noah passes an Office and Supply Closet, but glosses over them since they're just full of boring, dusty old maintenance equipment like security monitors, cleaning supplies, and cardboard boxes. He finally emerges from the employees section and into the meat of the establishment, the places that would send all sorts of nostalgic memories flooding back into the 80s and 90s kids in the audience. A large atrium lined with arrays of centerfold tables, all draped with white plastic covers and decorated with colorful striped party hats - The Dining Area, home to countless birthday parties. Looking over it all is a big wooden platform littered with old speakers and microphones - The Show Stage, home to countless concerts. Off to right are the Restrooms and the Kitchen, and to the left is another wooden stage, this one shrouded by a cylindrical purple curtain hung from the ceiling by a circular drape rod.

Dozens of silver star outlines pop out from the mauve fabric, and the attraction is marked by a little wooden sign reading "-SORRY!- OUT OF ORDER". Pirate Cove. Noah steps up onto the stage and brushes the purple drapery out of his way, enclosing himself within the darkness of the rundown attraction. Befitting its name, Pirate Cove's interior is superficially done up like a rickety old pirate's ship, with three skull and crossbones flags hanging from above, styrofoam "wooden" barrels and crates full of "rum" and "cannonballs", and a big boat's wheel that only looks to be made of solid bark. The most noteworthy thing, however, is most certainly the animatronic left slump up against the wall in the back. It's not any of the three advertised by the posters back in the West Hall, so it's likely one that was decommissioned long before the place even shut down. Put simply, she's old and decayed even for this place, which is saying something. She's a red fox with a toothy snout, black eyepatch, and silver hook hand, her glossy shell of crimson slightly eaten away by entire decades of rot to show the cold metal endoskeleton that lies underneath.

 _"I don't recognize this one,"_ Noah admits as he reaches his hand out to feel her plastic pelt. _"I wonder what her name i-"_

His palm brushes against her shoulder and she immediately snaps into a stiff, robotic posture, making Noah squeal like a girl and stumble back with such force that he almost lands flat on his ass. Her eye weakly glows with a white LED light, flickering in and out like a dying lightbulb. The reactivated machine, apparently motion-sensitive, reads off from its almost 30 year old script with its crackling, barely functioning voice box of a booming, West Country-accented young woman.

 _"Y-Y-YAAA-YAAARGH, I-I-I-I'M FOXY THE P-P-P-P-I'M FOXY THE PIRATE. HOW D-D-DDARE YE ENTER M-M-HOW DARE YE ENTER ME PIRATE'S COVE! I-I-I-I'LL HAVE YE WALK-I'LL HAVE YE WALK THE PLANK FOR THIS!"_

 _"Jesus, that scared me half to death!"_ Noah pants as he clutches his pounding heart. _"How the heck is this thing still working anyways?!"_

Foxy returns to her dormant state, so nothing but silence remains. Noah sighs in frustration before stepping back out of her cove.

 _"I wonder if the other three animatronics still have some juice in them like that,"_ Noah ponders aloud. He has no idea.

He walks a couple paces forward and glances through the empty doorway of the Kitchen, scanning all of the retired cooking equipment like stoves, ovens, fridges, and towers of packaged plastic plates and cups. He peers around the closest corner down another corridor, the East Hall, the sister of the one he came in from. They'd be twins if it weren't for the lack of a Supply Closet this time. Then he gets a closer look at the Restrooms, nothing of more cracked black-and-white tiles and animated posters peeling off the walls to write home about. He returns to the center of the establishment.

 _"Alright, I think I checked the whole building... oh wait a second, how did I forget? The Back-Stage! That's where all the children went missing! I remember reading that there were theories and rumors about how the kids were murdered in that very room by the animatronics, and that's why they shut them all down, because they were-"_

He cuts himself off when he glances back at Pirate Cove. It's completely empty aside from the props, and the curtains are wide open.

 _"...Where did Foxy go?"_

Rapid mechanical stomping can be heard in the corner of your right ear. Noah jerks the camera towards the cacophonous racket and a red, canine/humanoid shape is barreling right at him with freakish speed from among the assortment of party tables.

 _"Oh shoot, oh SHOOT **OH SHOOT!** "_ Noah keeps his show family friendly in his 180 degree turn away from the rabid mechanized animal.

He pushes his legs to the limit as he fires down the East Hall, the camcorder lens and ray of his flashlight tunelessly dancing from side to side in his wild sprint. He takes a sudden short-cut through the Office, and glances the camera back to see how close Foxy is. She's right on his heels, though the sharp turn into the Office almost sends her crashing into the end of the corridor, shaking her off by only a mere second or so. After breathlessly stumbling through another one of the Office's doorways, Noah emerges into where it all started; The West Hall. He crashes into the back door he came in from and gives it the heftiest push he can muster.

It's locked.

 _" **Oh, NO, NO NO NO NO, PLEASE!** "_ Noah begs as he distraughtly rattles the crash bar to no avail.

He turns around and all you see is red. The belligerent animatronic tackles Noah to the ground like a goddamn football player, and the tackle evolves to a straddle of the completely helpless boy. Foxy's broken, unhinged jaw, lined with dozens of jagged fangs, hangs inches from the camera as she slowly creeps in to make history with the Bite of '16.

 _" **PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!** "_ Noah begs at the top of his lungs.

Foxy's rotten, nightmarish maw suddenly morphs into a surprised expression upon her cute and innocent face, ears drooped and LED eye wide.

 _"Oh, I'm sorry!"_ she apologizes in a tomboyish and accentless, albeit still stuttery and robotic, voice. _"Y-Y-Y-You're weirded out because I don't-don't-don't-because I don't have the pirate voice, right? Sorry, that's just a thing I do- That's just a thing I do for the kids! Would you-would you- Would you like me to do it? 'Yarghhh, give me-me-me give me ye booty 'for I make ye walk the p-plank!' That better?"_ she chirps as she returns to her real voice.

You can only imagine Noah's face right now.

 _"Hell-Hell-Hello? Earth to boy? Did you-did you- Did you hear me?"_

 _"W-W-Why did you chase me down and attack me?!"_ Noah whimpers, with just as much as a stammer as the glitchy robot.

 _"Attack you? I was-I was- I was just trying to give you a hug! It's in my programming! L-L-L-Look, I'm...sorry, alright? I don't know my own-I don't know my own strength. I've never known..."_ she says aside, with a grim and pained tone in her voice like she's relieving an excruciating memory. _"Oh, God, how d-d-d-d-did I not notice how terrified you are? I'm such an- I'm such an idiot..."_

 _"...It's okay..."_ Noah can't help but satisfy her saddened puppy dog eye.

 _"You forgive me?!"_ her ears shoot back up and her tail begins slapping each cheek of her rear in its wag, incidentally sweeping Noah's groin like a duster.

 _"Y-Y **E** ah..."_ Noah writhes and squirms underneath Foxy as she unknowingly stimulates his genitals.

 _"Oh, you're the- Oh, you're the best!"_ she celebrates as shuts her eye and starts happily tonguing Noah's neck, befitting her canine nature.

Noah chortles and titters like a happy boy playing with his dog as his clothed lap is combed by a bristly scut and his face is washed by Foxy's realistic tongue. She jolts a bit when Noah's disobedient penis jabs her right in the sensitive parts. She curiously looks at the two locked crotches before sliding her straddle down so her head hangs above his crotch.

 _"What-What-What-What's this bulging thing underneath your pants?"_ she asks with childlike innocence despite being over 30 years old.

 _"It's nothing! Leave it alone!"_ Noah sheepishly hisses.

Too invested by her curiosity to even hear him, she gently fixes her hook over Noah's waistband and pulls his bottom down to the center of his thighs, unearthing all the commotion.

 _"Oooo, I've never-never- I've never seen anything like this before!"_ Foxy excitedly chirps like a kid making a new discovery.

Foxy starts fervently licking at his cock with her fat wet tongue just as she did his face. The boy's knees instantly lock and he tries to yell _"STOP!"_ , but the pleasure that's already reached his throat muddies it so the pirate continues digging in against his will. His dick properly tenderized and lubricated by her artificial slobber, Foxy takes a seat in his lap so her big malleable buttcheeks of glossy scarlet devour the glistering appendage. She reaches her good hand around and uses it to maneuver and finger Noah's boner into her buttcrack with machine-like dexterity. She starts springing up and down like she's having too much fun on a mattress, and each of her movements make a mechanical squeaking noise rather than the slaps and squelches of getting fucked by someone organic.

Foxy's big bushy tail wags back and forth across Noah's bare belly (exposed thanks to his sweatshirt riding up his torso) like a windshield wiper, mercilessly tickling him by complete accident. He giggles like a lunatic and these strained laughs eclipse the typical shudders and moans in his voice as his brains are fucked out. Noah lets go of his camera so it sits under his neck, leaving his hands free to clutch each of her velvety sides as she rides him like a cowgirl. As if a waterballoon of white paint busted against the crushing tightness of the fox's rectum, cum splatters across Noah's stomach upon his quick climax, some of it pooling in his belly button. The second Foxy sees the puddle of white liquid staining her new friend's abdomen, she inverts her position so she can lick off his skin.

Noah grabs the fake tufts on her scalp and laughs his lungs raw as his belly is bathed with a moist, tickling sensation. It takes Foxy a whole minute to lap up the last of Noah's baby batter, but she gets there, leaving Noah's midriff sparkling with squeaky cleanliness as it jounces up and down with his heavy breathing. Foxy curls up in a ball at Noah's feet, closing her eye and returning to dormancy. Noah recuperates for the next couple moments, pulls himself up with the locked back door, and stuff his privates back in his pants. He watches Foxy peacefully slumber, likely with a warm smile at the adorable sight, before crouching down and running his fingers through her synthetic, silken pelt, petting her like the good dog she is.

 _"Alright,"_ Noah recomposes himself for the camera. _"Now let's check out that Back-Stage."_


	6. Chapter 6: The Fazbear Gang

The video skips ahead a couple seconds. It seems as if Noah has teleported from the foot of the West Hall all the way to the Show-Stage. About time he started editing... He climbs up onto the huge wooden podium and steps over all the dead stereos to get to another door labeled "Employees Only". He gives the knob a creaky twist and the light from his torch spills into the darkness of what lies beyond: The Back-Stage. A small and cramp storage room with the walls lined with shelves, each ledge packed to the brim with...heads. Hollow plastic helmets taking the cartoonish likeness of the characters from the posters.

Noah makes sure to get a long scan of the many empty animal masks staring down onto him like an ominous jury. In the corner is a slump metal skeleton that looks like a skinless Terminator. He takes a glance to his left and in the center of it all is a workbench that looks more akin to an operating table than anything else thanks to the two more deactivated animatronics strewn out atop it. The camcorder swoops down the table and captures all six feet of the sleeping, towering robots, one encased in purple phony fur and the other in yellow. Bonnie and Chica, two thirds of the Fazbear Gang.

 _"I wonder where Freddy is,"_ Noah contemplates as he looks over the two mechanized furries like it's some kind of autopsy.

Noah's flashlight starts flickering.

 _"Ah crap, let me check the batteries,"_ Noah mutters as he sets his camcorder down on the ground.

From this angle of the table, you notice a red electric guitar leaned up against one of its legs, and right by it a purple hand hanging off the countertop. The hand begins subtly sliding across the edge towards the guitar, before its four bulky yet still dexterous fingers wrap around the upper neck of the instrument. Noah, who doesn't notice this, steps into the shot and happens to cover up what happens next, scrambling the camera back up off the ground.

 _"Alright, sorry about that,"_ he apologizes as he fits the camera back into its normal set-up and turns around.

A crimson shape of solid wood almost comes crashing down onto his scalp like an axe onto a log.

 _"WHOA!"_ he shrieks as he dives out the way and to the ground just in time.

The loud, discordant strum of a guitar getting smashed in half against the hard checkered floor bellows throughout the Back-Stage, along with the sound of the bark splitting. His attacker, a coldly furious-looking Bonnie back from the dead, let's the splinters of her bass crumble through her fingers as she stares Noah down with a demonic glare. She begins a methodical stride to approach him, the ground nearly rumbling with the stomps of her heavy robot feet. Noah begins crawling backwards as he whimpers in fear, but stops dead in his tracks when he seems to hit a wall. He peers the camera up and gets an upside down close-up of Chica looming over him like a malignant, banana-colored skyscraper. She reaches out with both her hands and wrestles Noah down, pinning his shoulders to the ground and leaving him easy pickings for Bonnie. He tries kicking the metal beast as it gets on its knees and sandwiches him between purple and yellow, but it grabs his ankles with two powerful squeezes as to render him completely defenseless.

 _"What-What-What do you w-w-want?"_ Bonnie's faulty voice-box growls.

 _"I-I was just exploring, I swear! Please don't hurt me!"_

 _"O-O-O-Oh...you're just a- You're just a kid,"_ the rabbit recognizes as her optical sensors dilate and her voice becomes softer, softer than even Foxy's. You can just imagine her red-tinted robo-vision scanning Noah like a Terminator. _"We-We-We love kids! We're so-so-so sorry, we thought you were a- we thought you were a grown-up!"_

 _"It's alright..."_ Noah is used to being nearly killed and manhandled at this point.

 _"Let us prop-prop-properly introduce ourselves,"_ the one behind him says, sounding a bit more girly than her lavender counterpart. _"I'm C-C-C-Chica the Chicken, the Fazbear Gang's backup singer!"_

 _"And I'm Bonnie the B-B-Bunny, the Fazbear Gang's bassist! Well, not-n-not anymore,"_ she murmurs as she eyes the remains of her guitar.

 _"Yeah, I know..."_

 _"Ah, so our- Ah, so our reputations precede us even after-after-after all these years!"_ Chica's programming stumbles over its own words. _"And w-w-what's your name, little one?"_

 _"Noah... Why do you hate grown-ups?"_

 _"Well, n-n-nice to meet you, Noah!"_ Bonnie squees. _"And grown-ups might've-might've-might've- Grown-ups might've made us but they also ki-ki-ki-killed us. The last thing we saw-saw-saw before we were shut off for good was a grown-up pulling the plug on us...for n-n- **NOTHING...** "_

 _"I'm sorry."_ God, Noah's such a softie. He's the kinda guy that cries over every sad story in the news.

 _"Oh, you have- Oh, you have nothing be sorry for, dear,"_ assures Chica. _"We're the ones that should be sorry-sorry-sorry, for treating you like this! Here, why don't-why don't-why don't we make it up to you?"_

 _"No no, that's not necess-"_

His futile protests are interrupted by the bunny tearing a giant hole in his sweatpants with her bare hands, cracking his bottom open like a fortune cookie.

 _"Aw MAN, I JUST GOT THOSE!"_ Noah mourns his ruined trousers as Bonnie spreads his legs and drools over his vapid penis.

She picks up the two purple jiggly jugs hanging from her chest and plops them down onto the naked window in Noah's lap like a heavy load, making his entire body uselessly jolt against Chica restraining him. Her swollen robotic bust has to be at least 80 pounds alone. She wrangles it by digging her eight plastic finger-tips into the sides, then sandwiches Noah's member amidst her two breasts. The fleshy digit between his legs gets completely lost in the waterbed of Bonnie's upper torso, and she begins working the pair of hooters up and down against his ever-strengthening shaft. She bares her cute buck teeth in a satisfied little smirk and her scut wags behind her as she gleefully smothers Noah's pulsating hard-on with a titjob. Paizuri so strong that it makes him crane his head back from the fiery pleasure, which returns him to the upside down view of Chica, this time with a perverted smile carved into her orange beak. She dips down a bit so the underboobs of her bib droop down right into Noah's face, which pushes the camera out of the way and sends it rolling off onto the floor so it can get a third-person angle of the threesome.

A dark yellow nipple falls onto Noah's lips and he gives it an apprehensive look before reluctantly swallowing it, sucking on the avian furry's bosom as Bonnie rakes hers up and down his erection. Now that his hands are free of the camera, he can seize the bottoms of Chica's breasts whilst sucking on one of their butterscotch-colored areolas and lift them up out of his face a bit so he can breathe. Chica's eyes roll into the back of her endoskeleton as a kid vehemently breastfeeds from the left side of her chest. Noah's careworn cries get louder and louder despite being muffled by the chicken's jugs and Bonnie manages to wring a cumshot out his cock so a meter-long stream of semen is pancaked by the "LET'S EAT!" bib as it sways over Noah's face.

 _"There!"_ Chica chirps as she backs out and gives Noah some space. _"M-M-Much better now, right?"_

 _"Right..."_ Noah rolls his eyes as he catches his breath. _"Wait,"_ he shoots up from his pouty self when he picks an earlier thought back up. _"Weren't there three of you?"_

 _"Hm? Oh, you mean F-F-F-Freddy!"_ realizes Bonnie. _"Oh, geez, she was irritable after every- after every nap! Can't imagine how big of a mornin-mornin- morning grumpy bear she'd be if she woke up after a 23 year shutdown!"_

 _"Le-Let's find out!"_ Chica proposes.

Bonnie and Chica hop up off of Noah as they scramble off camera with an objective set in their programming. Noah gives his torn sweatpants one last agonized glance before reaching towards the camcorder and fitting it back into his hands. He films the two animatronics as they dress the naked endoskeleton in the corner in a big bulky brown suit.

 _"Uhhh,"_ Noah nervously vocalizes, not foreseeing this as a very good idea.

Around a hundred different parts strewn about the Back-Stage to turn a scary sack of metal bones into an adorable and provocative children's entertainer, glossy chocolate shelling around her fingers, hands, arms, legs, torso, waist, feet, joints, and finally a helmet that masks her cold, menacing robot skull with a warm and inviting headshot of a cartoon character.

 _"F-F-Fredddyyyy!"_ Bonnie tries to awake in a hypnotizing voice while waving her palm in front of her dormant bandmate's face like she's doing a Jedi mind trick on her.

Freddy blinks as her flare to life and her Terminator-vision begins scanning her surroundings after a 23 year long coma. Bonnie is sitting in front of her on her knees, with a peachy expression on her permanently puckered face over the awakening of her old friend. Chica is standing parallel to Bonnie like always, too busy wringing cum out of her bib to celebrate. And finally, there's an unfamiliar kid seated up against the wall in the back, recording her with a cheap camcorder. Target spotted. Fazbear's white eyes begin glowing with orange, like a Jack-o'lantern, whilst the whimsical jingles of an old, dying music box built into her skull begins wheezing out the orifices in her head to the tune of The Toreador Song.

Noah cautiously rises to his feet once it gets more and more apparent that Freddy might not be as friendly as her fellow musicians. As if she wasn't creepy enough, a baritone, alluring belly laugh starts stuttering out from her throat as she too begins creakily and stiltedly evolving to a stand, her eyes never once detaching from Noah's. She starts menacingly stomping towards the camera, getting faster and faster with every time the remains of her dilapidated establishment quake from her heavy movement. Her eyes are like a couple of flickering flashlights shining onto Noah as he hurriedly makes his way out the door.

 _"Awww, she-she already likes you!"_ you can hear Chica's voice twitter in the background as Noah runs for his life through the Show-Stage.

He seeks refuge under one of the three lineups of dinner tables, hiding beneath the cloak of a plastic table cloth. Noah peeks his camera out the cover to show a glimpse of his blackened, sunken surroundings. The stool legs Noah hides behind seem like jail cell bars, and on the other side of them are the hazel feet of Freddy Fazbear tromping down the aisle in her hunt for her first "customer" in over two decades.

 _"Come-come out little-little bo-boy!"_ Freddy entices in her sultry voice, ruined by her electronic speech impediment as it bellows throughout the endless-seeming void of the Dining Area. _"I-I d-don't wanna h-hurt you, I-I just wanna- I just wanna play! I-Is it your b-bi-birthday?"_

She swoops past Noah in his glimpse from out under the table and nearly catches him with her spotlight-like eyes, but he manages to yank himself back into his hiding place just in time.

 _"Don't-n't make me call my friend to come he-elp me..."_ she intimidates as her voice further deepens and her lights go out, sinking her eyes in blackness so only their glints can be seen.

 _"Her friend?"_ Noah whispers.

The footage starts getting corrupted, swirled into a little bit of static as a deep robotic gurgling is heard. The corruption seems to have affected the camera at the time too, as Noah notices it and slaps his video recorder a bit to make it cut it out. White text flashes up onto the screen for a split second. You go back a couple times to pause it at just the right moment, and eventually you're successful.

 _" **IT'S ME** "_

You unpause the video just as something is heard slapping down onto Noah's ankle from behind. He twists around at lightning speed and a big yellow robot hand is squeezing his leg.

 _"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"_ Noah fills the Dining Area with his bloodcurdling scream as he's dragged out from underneath the table.

Noah's back is slid across the floor into the center of the aisle. He's cowering in the shadow of...Freddy...but not quite. It looks just like Freddy, but instead of a brown hide she's solid yellow outside of the still inky accessories. Most creepily of all, though, is how...empty she is. No endoskeleton, no structure. Just a limp and zombie-like phantom with two black gaping holes for sockets and barely noticeable white pin-pricks for eyes.

Golden Freddy: Freddy's shadow.

She plunges both her fists down into Noah's chest, yanking him up to his feet by his collar. It shakes him up so much that he loses his grip on the camera and it comes plummeting down onto a tabletop, giving you a widescreen shot of the ensuing gangbang. Golden Freddy violently jerks Noah even closer, their noses almost touching...for a kiss. Holding two balls of his sweatshirt right up to her neck, she swallows the bottom half of his face with her snout, forcefully frenching him through a big wet kiss. After she's had her fill, the flaxen wraith shoves Noah backwards and he collides into Freddy's brick-wall-like anterior so he's again sandwiched by a couple of horny automatons twice as big as him. Both Freddys get on their knees and hook all sixteen of their sturdy fingers onto Noah's waistband, working together to drop his pants and underwear down to his ankles. Golden Freddy frames Noah's penis with her hands in a camera gesture. She consumes everything in the makeshift window with her mouth, already lubricated by the swapping of her and Noah's saliva. At the exact same time, Freddy digs her fingertips into Noah's buttcrack and spreads it wide before digging in like the animal she's supposed to be.

He might be getting used to fellatio but he's never felt anilingius before, so Noah howls in a cold shock as Freddy's silky snout burrows in between his asscheeks. His waist instinctively cocks forward in recoil, which only succeeds in helping Golden Freddy go balls deep on him. Just to hold himself up, Noah clings onto the yellow spirit's temples, right below her two cute little bear ears and top-hat, and locks his quivering knees as a blowjob cripples him from the front and a rimjob from the back. Now he's completely swamped in a nirvana he can't handle. He hangs his head back as far as it can go and surely fills Golden Freddy's once-hollow suit to the brim with the biggest and last (on-screen) cumshot of the night. The two furries detach their muzzles from Noah's waist, freeing him of his only support so he comes collapsing towards the camera, onto the stool it sits over. He scrambles himself together for his audience as Freddy and her golden counterpart ominously approach him, starving for seconds.

 _"Alright, guys,"_ he pants as the two anthropomorphic grizzlies slowly step out of the background and into the foreground. _"I already explored the whole place, I think it's time to stop recording before things get out of hand...See you..."_

Noah reaches around behind you and the video ends at 23 minutes and 11 seconds.


	7. Chapter 7: New and Improved

_"Hey guys, Noah here! So uh, big update! I read in the news a couple days ago that a big company bought out the Freddy Fazbear chain and are planning a grand reopening. Lots of renovations, tripling the budget, all types of stuff. They just wrapped up construction, and lucky for me, I'm friends with one of the employees here! He gave me the key to the place so now I get to explore Freddy Fazbear's Pizza all over again, but bigger and better this time!"_

Noah manually reverses the shot and sure enough, there's a pizzeria towering over him. A completely different building from the older restaurant, looks to be an emptied out grocery store remodelled to befit the Fazbear brand. And there's finally electricity running through the place now, as the structure's face is adorned with all sorts of glowing LED signs that makes it look like a Vegas casino for kids. The soles of Noah's sneakers scrap against the concrete of the parking lot as he steps up onto the establishment's sidewalk and approaches its front door. The camera peers down a bit to show him popping a ring of silver maintenance keys into the entrance's lock.

 _"I'm pretty sure this is legal...enough,"_ he justifies himself under his breath as the half a dozen keys jangle at his wrist while they jimmy the bolt. _"I'm not an employee but an employee is giving me permission. Right?"_

A satisfying "chick!" is struck through the keyhole and Noah pries one of the heavy double doors open as he enters the blooming new establishment. He steps into a whole gymnasium done up into a child's wonderland. The floors are still checkered, but now they're so pristine and well-waxed that you can see a crystal clear reflection of Noah projected across them. Green strips streak across the walls and colorful "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banners are strung from the ceiling like garland. A familiar array of decorated centerfold tables lie under them, but this time they're accompanied by clusters of balloons that come in every color of the rainbow. The corners are loaded piles of cartoonishly oversized birthday presents, but what takes the cake is the giant Fazbear-themed carousel of impeccable garnish detail in the heart of it all, with animal rides vaguely resembling Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy.

 _"Whoa! This place is HUGE! It's more than just a cheap pizza place now, now it's like a...whole carnival! Oh man, I can't believe I'm gushing over a place that's meant to attract little kids. Maybe liking this place just runs in the family... Uh, this isn't an advertisement by the way! Shoot, I wish Fazbear Entertainment would sponsor me though..."_ As he tours the cluttered maze of birthday decorations and kid attractions, Noah gives one deep, satisfied inhale and exhale. _"No more cobwebs, no more dust fog, no more butchered wiring!"_ Noah squees during his deep breaths in the fresh air of a newly erected building.

Hosting the merry-go-round is a short, silken female mannequin, sheened skin colored peach and with a detailed, makeup-drenched face of childlike glee. She's costumed with a cute little outfit consisting of a button-up tank-top and propeller beanie sat atop her boyish brown hair, both striped with blue and red, as well as a denim skirt and brown loafers. In her right hand is a yellow-and-red striped balloon while in her left, a wooden sign labelled "BB'S BALLOONS!"

 _"Just a statue,"_ Noah quietly dismisses as he feels her frozen joints.

The camera swoops to the left and the atmosphere immediately dips as the two of you bask in the glory of the Fazbear Gang atop their Show-Stage and in their prime...new and improved. Their redesigns are sleeker and glossier, and like BB, their faces are decorated with artificial blushes and eyelashes. In the update, their color schemes were made much more vibrant and popping. Freddy's once chocolate fur is now a caramel plastic. Bonnie's old purple pelt is now an azure shell. Chica's pallid yellow feathers are now almost golden in their crispness. Freddy and Chica's big puppy dog eyes are a brilliant blue, while Bonnie's is a striking jade that contrasts well with her adorable little whiskers. They stand motionless together shoulder to shoulder, in their own little poses: Freddy holding a microphone up to her mouth, Bonnie jamming on her slicker electric guitar, and Chica holding out a platter full of exaggerated pink cupcakes. And of course, their chests are just as full and their hips are just as wide as last time.

 _"Looking good, guys!"_ Noah compliments their brand spanking new upgrades. _"They're probably offline... Hello? Can you guys hear me?"_ Noah wildly waves his hand at the automated band. _"Actually, now that I think about it, it's probably best they're not active..."_ he painfully remembers the last time. Just as he's about to walk away and venture the rest of the indoor fair, Freddy activates, scans Noah, and speaks.

 _" **INTRUDER DETECTED. LETHAL FORCE AUTHORIZED.** "_

 _"Wait, what?"_

Chica and Bonnie's eyes light up too and the three of them begin marching off the stage, this time less like stiff robots and more like actual humans thanks to their polished articulation.

 _"Wait! Wait, you guys don't recognize me?!"_ Noah begs as he begins backing up. _"It's me, Noah!"_

The new and improved Fazbear Gang act like they don't even hear them, only getting faster and faster in their methodical pursuit. Noah twists around and starts running away, which inclines his stalkers to break out in a sprint too to keep up. Three sets of heavy but lightning fast footsteps are heard stomping behind Noah as he wildly zigzags through the Game Area. He vaults over birthday present piles, slides under dining tables, and snakes through the carousel like he's trying to complete some fucked up obstacle course. He glances behind him and the trio of anthro animals are only a couple seconds slower, and that's including his headstart. Noah spots the entrance and makes a break for it, but trips on some decorations and tumbles to the ground in a painful fall. He manages to recover quickly, but now the new animatronics are right on his heels, so he scrambles into the nearest place to seek refuge: a party room called Kid's Cove.

He slams the door shut behind him and plops the camera down on a dining table so both his hands are free to drag it in front of the door to barricade with. The deed is done, at the cost of Noah spending every last ounce of strength, just as the door handle starts churning. The Fazbear Gang try kicking it down with their tremendous strength and it becomes apparent that Noah has only bought himself a few more seconds. He re-equips his camera and darts his head around the room for an escape. It seems at first that he's cornered himself, but he notices an open air-vent nestled in the top right corner of the room, though he's far too short to reach it. He drags a stool across the room and uses to it to boost himself up to his one chance at saving his life. By the paper-dolls wreathed across the ceiling, Noah peeks his head into the dark rectangular little tunnel of metal.

There's an animatronic in it.

 _"H-H-Hello!"_

Noah screams and fumbles straight off the stool so he falls flat on his ass right as the Fazbear Gang bust through the barricade and swarm into Kid's Cove. The vent lurker slinks out and down onto the floor with cat-like grace, revealing herself to be Foxy's successor. She's completely dropped the pirate motif and is a feminine white and pink instead of a fiery and tomboyish red, with rosy nail polish slathered on the tips of her toes and fingers. She's even more tattered than the original though, as one of her eyes is lightless and dead and some big spots in her suit are tattered and unfinished to show off the cold endoskeleton beneath. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica come for Noah, flipping another table aside in their threatening march forwards, but Foxy leaps in between them like she's taking a bullet, giving you a nice shot of her taut bubble butt as a bushy tail hangs over it.

 _"S-S-STOP!"_ she calls off with that old familiar stutter.

 _"Stand aside, Mangle,"_ coldly demands Bonnie with a thunderous reverb in her voice. Sounds weird to hear her without the distortion.

 _"This boy is an intruder and our prime directive at night is to defend the establishment,"_ Freddy reads off from her programming. Hell, it sounds even weirder hearing her talk so glacial and sharp, the polar opposite of her child-friendly and bubbly forerunner.

 _"H-He might be an intr- an intruder but he's not-ot hurting anyone!"_ defends 'Mangle'. _"There's no se-sense in treating him like he's some kind of- like he's some kind of bad guy if he hasn't even d-d-d-done anything wrong! L-L-Look at him! Look how sc-sc-scared you've gotten the poor boy!"_ she barks as she points at what's behind the camera, likely a shivering and scared-out-of-his-mind Noah cowering in the corner.

The Fazbear Gang drop their professional personas to look at one another with eyes full of shame. _"You're right, Mangle,"_ Chica sighs.

 _"Yeah, you're right Mangle, we overreacted,"_ Bonnie agrees.

 _"It's just...this place is opening tomorrow and we wanna make sure everything goes perfectly,"_ Freddy explains. _"All we wanted to do was what we were supposed to do, to impress our creators...so they wouldn't..."_ She abandons that thought and steps past Mangle so she can address Noah personally. _"Could you ever forgive us, ...?"_

 _"...Noah."_

 _"Noah!"_ she lets out a small giggle. _"The first little boy we've had at our establishment, so excited to see us that he broke in before we even open! Let's make a good first impression, girls, start off with a bang. **Let's make this the best night of his life.** "_

The other three robots begin menacingly giggling along with their alpha. She snatches Noah up off the floor by his collar and tosses him back onto the stool with her Herculean strength. Before he can even get a word out, his pants and briefs are already around his ankles and there's four furry girls swooning over him on their knees between his naked legs.

 _"What's the matter, Noah?"_ Bonnie asks as she begins nibbling on his flaccid cock like it's a carrot. _"Do we not excite you enough?"_

 _"W-We'll see about that..."_ Mangle hisses with a wicked smirk in her salmon muzzle.

Noah cringes and jerks in his seat as his shaft enlarges against his will. Soon, the thing is big enough for the whole gang to play with. Bonnie continues sucking on the side of Noah's shaft, while Chica's eyes go a sunken black and takes off her beak so she can peck at the other side. Mangle dips down and gobbles up Noah's whole scrotum with her snout whilst Freddy gets left with the final serving: his tip. Her cute black nose rests atop the flexed pink gland of sensitive flesh as her puckered lips gingerly smooch its crown before gulping the whole thing.

Noah wails in bliss as his dick is treated like royalty by four girls, attacked by four different pleasures from all sides all at once. A quartet of beautiful faces glowing with happiness fill the screen, in a circle around one little thing that brings them all together: Noah's boner. Like a busted fire hydrant, cum comes spewing up into the air only to rain back down onto all of them. Enough semen for four entire facials. Noah's entire body goes dead limp with exhaustion. The Fazbear Gang and Mangle all celebrate by unintentionally patronizing Noah with _"Yaaay!"_ 's and clapping as congratulations for managing to douse them all with a single cumshot.

 _"That was- That was so fun!"_ Mangle gushes as her friends wipe the cum off their faces and pop it into their mouths. _"Le-et's do it again!"_

 _"NO!"_ Noah firmly objects as he scrambles his pants back on and locks his legs in defense. _"I mean...no, thanks. I'm tired."_

 _"Awwww!"_ the girls all express their disappointment in unison.

 _"But I've been meaning to ask. How come you guys don't recognize me? Did they wipe your memories or something when they were rebuilding you?"_

 _"I don't understand,"_ Chica says.

 _"We've all met before! At the old pizzeria!"_

 _"Oh!"_ realizes Freddy. _"No, no, that wasn't us. We were made from the ground up, by state-of-the-art technology! The only reason we still keep those old-timers around is for spare parts!"_

 _"Wait, you mean...The original Fazbear Gang is still here?"_


	8. Chapter 8: Old and Forgotten

The footage skips ahead a bit, looks like half a minute or so was lost in processing.

You're immediately greeted to the sounds of Noah desperately pleading at the top of his lungs as he's carried down the Main Hall by the Toy Animatronics like a crowd surfer.

 _"NO-NO-NO-NO, THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"_ he shouts atop the mob of robots manhandling him to a room marked 'Parts/Services'.

 _"We had no idea you were friends with our prototypes!"_ happily coos Chica.

 _"O-Oh, they'll be s-so ha-appy to see you again a-a-a-after all this time!"_ Mangle says as she has Noah effortlessly lifted over her head.

One of Freddy's hands leaves from helping hoist up Noah to instead open the service room. No electricity is wasted on it so it's just an empty void that the new mascots waste no time tossing Noah into.

"We don't want to make your reunion awkward or take up too much space so we'll stay out here while you five catch up!" Freddy explains with a smile and her eyes closed before shutting the door, flushing everything out with blackness.

 _"NO NO NO, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, THEY'RE CRAZY!"_ Noah screams as he bangs on the door that just won't budge.

He tries at the door for a little while longer before giving up and facing his fears. He flicks on his flashlight and turns around. The walls are scorched with grime and wires dangerously bleed from the cracks in the tiled ceiling, reaching all the way down to the Parts/Service room's four inactive residents. Freddy Fazbear, Bonnie the Bunny, Chica the Chicken, and Foxy the Pirate. The originals. They...haven't aged well. They all look like decayed zombies, their once colorful husks now ashen and eaten away for scrap metal. Freddy doesn't have it that bad and Foxy, whose always been a decommissioned junkpile, doesn't look much different. But as for the others...

Chica's hands are just two tails of wires spilling out of her wrists and her endoskeleton jaw is on full display since the bottom half of her beak is completely dislocated and lazily hanging all the way down to her bib, still wrinkly and crusty with Noah's cum. And Bonnie's got it even worse. Her left arm is missing, now just a bunch of cords streaming from the socket, and her face is gutted, leaving only a purple, bunny ear'd hood drawn over her steel skull, casting a shadow on it so it's just an empty nothing. As if robotic furries weren't bizarre enough, now they're zombified; rotten corpses of their former selves.

But at least they're in such shambles that they could never possibly activate ever again...right?

Noah continues uselessly tugging at the door, but it locked from the outside, so he's trapped in here with-

 _"N-N-N-No-N-No-ah?"_

Noah freezes like a deer in headlights. It's dead silent and he's dead still, so much so that the next couple seconds could be mistaken for a buffering video.

 _"N-No-N-No-ah? I-I-Is that y-y-you?"_ the familiar voice of the original Freddy Fazbear weakly asks, sounding like she's talking through an industrial fan.

Noah turns around and the whole quartet of ex-children's entertainers, by some miracle, still have enough juice in them to hold their heads up together and stare at a familiar face.

 _"Uh, yep, it's me, girls,"_ Noah awkwardly greets, uncomfortable with so much spotlight on him. _"Good to see you ag- **OOF!** "_

A colorful blur tackles Noah to the floor and almost literally kills him under over 700 pounds of solid metal. All four animatronics are collectively squeezing on him in a big group hug on the floor.

 _"W-E-WE MI-MISSED YOU SO MUCH!"_ they all squeal as they cling onto the only human in the building, filling the screen with brown, purple, yellow, and red.

 _"GIRLS, GIRLS, TOO TIGHT!"_ Noah wheezes. They let up on their ruthless bear hug and let him breathe. He turns the camera on himself and it looks like he's about to take a group selfie with the walking carcasses of the original Fazbear Gang.

 _"S-S-S-or-Sorry..."_ Bonnie apologizes, stutter worse than ever as two red eyes burn through the darkness of her 'face'. _"And sorry we l-l-look like such fre-freaks..."_

 _"T-The grown-ups stripped us- the grown-ups stripped us for all we were worth to use for those newer, better-better-better models..."_ Chica explains as she fits her jaw back into place so she can lip-sync her voice-box.

 _"They're not better..."_ Noah encourages. _"You're both great in your own ways!"_

 _"Y-You're just s- You're just saying that..."_ Foxy accuses in despair.

 _"I'm really not!"_

 _"Well-ell, we're just so happy to have you b-b-back!"_ Freddy praises before closing her eyes and digging her cheek into Noah's. Her fellow animatronics all do something similar, snuggling up in the corner with our cameraman.

There's a brief pause of Noah awkwardly settling in the five-"person" spoon before he addresses you. _"Welp, guys,"_ he sighs. _"Sorry I have to cut this video short but I'm locked in here. I guess I'll just have to wait for one of the employees to get me out of here in the morning..."_ He looks around at the four furries happily cuddling with him. _"I guess I am pretty comfortable waiting here though... Let's just hope Todd's the one who finds me...Todd's the employee I'm friends with, by the way, the one who gave me his k-..."_

Noah's face goes stone cold. He reaches around to his back pocket and some distinctive jingling is heard. He holds a silver ring draped with keys up to the camera.

 _"Well, now I feel stupid..."_ he grumbles as he rises to his feet, which rattles the four once comfortable animatronics off of him.

The last image you see from this angle is their sad puppy dog faces (well, except for Bonnie) before Noah adjusts the camera to its normal position as he approaches the door.

 _"Wa-ait, Noah!"_ they plead. _"D-d-don't go!"_

He stops and turns to them, staring at the four with a pause like he's truly conflicted. _"But...I have to. My parents would be worried sick and if the wrong employee finds me in the morning I could be arrested for breaking and entering."_

 _"J-J-Just stay- Just stay for 10 more minutes!"_

 _"Girls..."_ He checks his phone. _"It's 4:13. I still gotta wrap this video up, it's a 15 minute bus drive here, my parents get up at 5, the second they realize I'm gone, they're gonna call the cops and it'll be this whole fiasco that they'll ground me forever f-"_

 _"Noah."_ Freddy interrupts as she and her three minions rise to their feet in machine-like unison. _" **You're not leaving us again.** "_

 _"...girls, come on, don't be like-"_

The gang tackle him to the ground once more, but this time it's a lot more violent, sending the camera sliding across the floor in all the confusion so you get a wide shot of the upcoming gangbang. Noah thrashes around on the tiles as he's torn out of his articles of clothing one at a time. First his hoodie goes, then the t-shirt underneath, then his shoes, socks, pants, and finally underwear, all crumbled up into a ball and discarded off to the side. All that remains is a silver cross necklace fiercely jangling around as he's manhandled by four robots infinitely stronger than he is. Bonnie pins him to the floor by sitting down between his shoulders so most of his vision is eclipsed by the "outlet" on her crotch, while Freddy perches on his chest so her and Bonnie's asses are back to back as they engulf his entire upper half with four bean bags of synthetic flesh.

Still seated on Noah's trunk, Freddy leans forward and locks bellies with him, so her drool can hang over his cock as it's gawked at by Foxy and Chica. Bonnie combs her bulky fingers through his hair and forcefeeds him her pussy while Freddy snakes Noah's dick through her mouth and the beak and snout of Chica and Foxy each suck on one of his balls. Noah would be screaming his lungs out in irrepressible pleasure right now if it weren't for Bonnie's pussy acting as his gag. Foxy and Chica pop Noah's scrotum out of their mouths once they feel it start rumbling and quivering from its bubbling cauldron-like innerworkings of an imminent orgasm. Freddy too detaches her lips from Noah's genitalia and instead wraps her four-fingered hands around his shaft as to aim the tip at her old bandmates' faces, each glowing with childlike anticipation.

A swirling torrent of white comes splurging out of Noah's urethra like a spiraling fire hose, dousing both their cartoony mugs with a whole half gallon of...well, you know. Completely drained of the few sloshes of energy they still had left in their broken husks for bodies, the robots power down by again trapping the naked, sweaty, terrified Noah in a group cuddle. The next few minutes is just him panting and what seems like a still image of him sandwiched between Freddy and Foxy on his left and Bonnie and Chica on his right. He slowly and carefully sits up, seeing if they notice. They don't. Then he slowly and carefully rises to his feet, seeing if they notice. They don't. Finally, he slowly and carefully walks over to pick up the camera, seeing if they notice. They don't. They're completely deactivated...he can only hope. Noah hurriedly scurries over to the door, snagging up his clothes and the keys along the way, unlocks the door, swings it open, and re-locks it.

Just to be sure.

Now back in the Main Hall, Noah puts the camera on the floor to give his hands the freedom to change him back into his clothes. All you can see are his feet for a couple moments as his briefs, pants, socks, and shoes are slid around his lower body, before he throws his t-shirt and hoodie back on over his head and returns the camera to his left grip so he can speak to it.

 _"Alright,"_ he swallows all of the negativity he's built up over the night and clenches his eyes. _"I know the smart thing to do would be to get the heck out of here now, but I promised you guys an exploration of the whole place. Otherwise this would all be for nothing. But if I hear a single creepy noise I'm bailing right away, okay?"_

He drags the palm of his other hand down his face as he recomposes himself before continuing trudging on through the investigation. He backtracks out the stretched bowels of the Main Hall and returns to the Game Area. Toy Freddy, Toy Bonnie, and Toy Chica have reverted back to dormancy in their poses atop the Show-Stage, Mangle is likely back in Kid's Cove, and the merry-go-round is left strangely unattended... Noah sticks to the shadowy outskirts of the wide atrium, likely too scared of getting detected by the Toy Animatronics' sensors out in the open. In the back of your mind, you faintly hear...music. You can pick up only a couple of soft chords hear and there. Hearing it too, Noah points the camera in the direction of the sound; a small walled off edge of the Game Area dubbed "Prize Corner". Noah wastes no time gaining on it, and by the time he's through the doorway, the song is very clearly a music box rendition of _The Grandfather Clock_. The box in question, the source of these tunes, is a navy-and-purple striped birthday present half the height and twice the width of the cameraman himself, with cords reaching down from a ceiling-mounted railway into the crack down the box's roof.

There's also a smooth, still crank jutting out the left face of the cube. This slice of the establishment is particularly dark, so Noah shines his flashlight upon it for some clarity. Off to the side of Prize Corner is a concession booth for Fazbear merchandise. Three whole shelves loaded to the brim with cute plushies of the Gang overlook a reflective counter, each edge with a bundle of balloons tied to it. Noah approaches the music box and the tune abruptly stops on his fourth step towards it. He cranes the camera down and reveals his foot has incidentally planted upon a sensor pad. The crank begins churning, moving up and down in a slow and methodical motion. Music resumes, but not _The Grandfather Clock_. This time, it's _Pop Goes the Weasel_. The box's lid automatically pries open and the pulley system begins chugging along. A limp, puppet-like shadow is dragged out from the present by its upper arms in a crucifixion pose, revealing its cubic housing to not just be a orchestrina but a Jack-In-The-Box as well.

The "Jack" in question is a petite, organic, slender, and curvaceous humanoid, surely a fresh sight for Noah after having been fucked by eight lumbering mechanical furries in a row. Noah begins backing away from the creepy scene of a deathly flaccid girl getting suspended out a music box while it plays instrumental nursery rhymes. From head to toe, her skin is like ink and she's dressed in arm-warmers, stockings, and a skirt, all striped black and white. Her boyish shoulder-length hair is a ghostly white, as is the blank plastic mask with only three holes: two eyes bleeding black tears and a mouth in a downwards-pointing D shape. At first glance, the Marionette seems dead and faceless, but then its peepers open, filling the eyeholes with two purple orbs devilishly slanted by some black lids, and its lips unfurl to fill the mouth hole with a wicked toothy grin. The Marionette pries her right arm out of the puppet strings keeping her shackled to the ceiling and reaches out for Noah with her free hand, claws bared in a threatening beckon.

 _"HOW IS THIS FOR KIDS?!"_ Noah whisper-yells in frustration.

He turns around to escape Prize Corner but a second dainty and disturbingly humanlike animatronic stands in the doorway, with the distinctive silhouette of a propeller hat on head and balloon in hand. Guess she wasn't a statue after all.

 _"Hello!"_

Noah stumbles back, but BB catches him by the flashlight his right hand is clinging onto and rips it straight out of his grip, smashing it up against the door frame and shattering it to pieces all in the single jerk of the wrist. Right before he lets out a shriek, a black index finger creeps up onto his lips from behind.

 _"Shhhh,"_ The Marionette hushes from around Noah's back, now completely free of her restraints. Her voice is so whispery and smooth it's almost sickening. _"This'll be our little secret~..."_

She grabs Noah by his hood and throws him to the ground, his back up against the prize counter. He drops the camera in the midst of the slam, making you cringe as it has a hard fall onto the tiled floor. It's scooped up, and BB's cute curious face fills the screen. She lets go of her balloon to give you an adorable little wave and a giggle before neatly setting the camera back on the ground, about half a meter away from Noah as he's straddled by the Marionette and forcibly frenched. The rest of the encounter is spliced with the soft chortles and giddy laughter of BB, just as ever-present as the music in the background. BB steps out from behind the camera and gingerly dives into the action. The Marionette moves aside to give BB her half of Noah, and the two of them relentlessly molest the boy's face together. Dragging their tongues up and down his cheeks, invading his mouth with theirs.

They move a floor down in almost perfect unison, nuzzling their heads in between Noah's thighs. An unzip is heard followed by the sweet sounds of sloppy oral sex. Their heads speedily nod up and down like his genitals are saying something very agreeable as they seem to suckle on Noah's testicles and paint his shaft with their synthetic tongues. You don't get to see much, but you do get an extended shot of BB's peach bubble butt overflowing from her short denim skirt and the Marionette's sable heart-shaped rear peeking out the end of her streaky monochrome tunic, taking up almost half the screen together. Five of Noah's fingertips get lost in the Marionette's chalky mane while his other five burrow into the neatly combed bristles of BB's hazel hair as he clings onto their scalps.

 _"OOhoohhh, OOhOOoOOHHH!~"_ Noah moans like a girl that's faking it as he digs the back of his head into the face of the prize bar. _"AAAaaa **AAAAH!~** "_

His head goes slump as if the orgasm was so powerful it knocked him clean out, and the Marionette and BB linger their heads in his lap to make sure to swallow every ounce of sperm he expelled. You can't see any of it thanks to the angle, but seeing how it was a two-girl job that still took nearly a minute, you're guessing it was quite more than just a mouthful. After that, they roll off onto Noah's sides and happily cuddle up with him, shutting their eyes and nestling their heads to each of his shoulders. The shot seems still for another whole minute, before Noah weakly lifts his head up and garners the energy to give you one final sendoff.

 _"I'm gonna go ahead and end the video here, guys,"_ he says, as always breathless and unsettled. _"Here's to hoping I don't get busted for breaking into here...I'll figure it out, just...see you later..."_

The video ends at 26:10.


	9. Chapter 9: The Dark Web

As usual, the video begins with a headshot of Noah, however there are some noticeable differences. Rather than the background being some decayed slum like usual, it's simply the welcoming interior of a suburban household, and the camera is perfectly fixated rather than being held in Noah's shaky wrists. His face is also tinted with blue, likely the glow of an offscreen computer monitor.

 _"Hey guys, Noah here! Uhm, so, I got some bad news. I'm grounded for the weekend! My parents haven't liked me sneaking off after curfew. It's bullcrap but, what are you gonna do? But I couldn't leave you guys hanging all week so instead, we'll be exploring...The Dark Web! Now if you don't know what the Dark Web is, it's like the seedy underbelly of the internet. I know, I know, a bunch of websites is lame compared to what I usually do, but I promise there's a lot of interesting and twisted stuff on here! Well, that's what I've heard, at least..."_

The view of Noah sitting at his desk suddenly shrinks and nestles at the bottom corner of the screen, like in a Let's Play. The real focus is put on an HD display of his laptop's wallpaper, populated by a couple icons off to the side.

 _"That's why I also asked for a capture card for my birthday! Yep, my trusty camera has been demoted to facecam duty this episode. The card only has 30 minutes of film on it though, but that should be more than enough! So anyways, I did a lot of research for this video. There's tons of scary urban legends surrounding the Dark Web, like how everyone wants to hack you and infect your computer and kidnap you, but I took lots of precautions! Not only did I install lots of anti-malware, but I'm decked out with all sorts of VPNs that I got for free! Oh, and can't forget about ANN!"_

The mouse cursor begins to explore the blank blue sea of the desktop, hovering over an Anonymous Network Node icon before double clicking. An empty, medium-sized window displays but it's soon filled by a site called "The Deep Wiki" when Noah selects the "Home" button. It's a bland white canvas with an endless-looking list of blue links.

 _"So this here is the Deep Wiki. It's the Dark Web's directory. Well, one of them. So I guess we just start browsing random sites..."_ Noah assumes as he starts scrolling up and down the bottomless catalog. _"Uhhh...'The Doll Maker', let's try that! Sounds like a toy store!"_

The link goes purple as Noah selects it and a couple seconds drag by whilst the webpage slowly loads. All that build-up for nothing it seems, as all the internet can scramble together is an error.

 _"Oh...that's disappointing. Yeah, I heard the Dark Web is full of dead links. I should probably edit this white noise stuff out..."_

He didn't. Noah returns to the wiki.

 _"Ummm...'The Cotton Road', that sounds cool!"_

Another grueling load-time and the webpage loudly, boldly presents itself with all sorts of flashy American logos decorating it from head to toe.

 _" **THIS WEBSITE HAS BEEN SEIZED BY THE FBI AND THE DEA,** "_ it reads like a headline.

 _"Oh wow...this site was so serious the authorities shut it down? Wonder what it was...well, since the DEA was involved, I'm guessing drugs. Maybe an illegal narcotic market? Guess that's a dud too, le-"_

Noah visibly jumps when his desk starts loudly rumbling from the vibrations of an off-screen phone.

 _"Whoa! Um... hang on a sec guys, sorry,"_ he mutters, taken completely off guard as he looks at the number and doesn't seem to recognize it before answering anyways. _"Hello? Who is this?"_

It's hard for you to tell since it's not on speaker, but it sounds like heavy, labored, almost threatening breathing huffing and huffing into Noah's left ear as he listens to the call.

 _"Okay then..."_ He hangs up. _"Sorry about that guys, some stupid prank caller, I guess. Anyways,"_ his hand returns to his mouse, _"as I was saying, let's move on. Hmmm... The Organ Mart, Bathroom Cams, Scream Bi...B-Word...'Cleaning Services'! Must be Craigslist for maids or something..."_ he theorizes as the page loads.

When the time finally comes, the site reveals itself as an advertisement for a...cleaner...of corpses. A body disposal expert for hire. Graphic pictures of real dead people ornament the screen like a twisted mural. Some getting dirt dumped on them as they're crumpled up in a finely dug hole in the woods, others slump in a bathtub full of steamy, bubbling acid, and a few stuffed in soggy garbage bags stinking up the alleyways. The details of the corpses themselves are a whole other story. Throats crushed and permanently bruised, brains blown out through the back of heads, faces covered in bloody welts from getting beaten to death...

 _"Whoa...th-...this isn't real, right?"_ Noah is taken aback as his skin goes a pallid green. _"This has gotta be s-s-some sort of...No, this isn't real, the FBI would've taken this down...if these were real corpses...and if this was a real...nevermind, let's just move on..."_ Noah shakes himself out of it.

Like a finger skimming through the contents of a filing cabinet, the cursor runs down the tower of blue and purple links, landing on a service called "HiddenChat". Upon loading, it turns out to be an anonymous chatroom with a gloomy color scheme.

 _"Um...should I say something?"_ Noah shyly asks in rhetoric. _"Er...hello?,"_ he sounds out his words as he types them down with his keyboard and punctuates them with 'Enter'.

 _"10:37 PM - **You:** hello?_  
 _10:37 PM - Anon1: Hey._  
 _10:38 PM - Anon4: hi_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: You new here?"_

 _"Oh man, they actually noticed me,"_ Noah blushes before continuing the chat.

 _"10:38 PM - **You:** yeah_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon3: This is my first time on HiddenChat too._  
 _10:38 PM - Anon2: ive been on here for years._  
 _10:38 PM - **You:** i meant i'm new to the whole dark web_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: Oh_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: Well, how are you liking it?_  
 _10:38 PM - **You:** i dunno, it's been kinda boring_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon4: haha yeah that happens_  
 _10:38 PM - **You:** hey, have you guys been getting weird phone calls too?_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: Huh?_  
 _10:38 PM - **You:** like, heavy breathing_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: ..._  
 _10:38 PM - Anon1: You're joking, right?_  
 _10:38 PM - Anon2: lol rip_  
 _10:38 PM - **You:** no?_  
 _10:39 PM - Anon7: BREATHER_  
 _10:39 PM - Anon4: gg  
_ _10:39 PM - Anon3: He's just trolling, guys  
_ _10:39 PM - Anon6: you're gonna get raped by the breather bro lmao  
1_ _0:39 PM - Anon 8: f  
_ _10:39 PM - Anon5: do you idiots actually believe him"_

Noah stares at the screen in a flustered confusion as the reflection of the many messages flooding in flash upon his face. _"Alright, these guys are being jerks,"_ he pouts as he backs out the chat. _"It's probably best if I don't talk-"_

Noah twitches as he hears the loud bang of a car door slamming from outside. He fearfully peeks through the blinds behind you before tearing the facecam from its tri-pod and showing you a window view of his neighborhood street, which minimizes video capture of the Dark Web and puts the video in a more typical format. There's a white van parked at the curb, right in front of the house.

 _"That's not my parents..."_

The phone rings again. Through the camera, Noah stares at the black smartphone loudly vibrating and ominously rattling across his desk before answering it with a jittery wrist.

 _"Who is this?!"_ he nervously demands. _"Are you stalking me?!"_

Nothing.

 _"...Hello?!"_ he pleads once more.

...

 _" **I FOUND YOU,** "_ a husky female voice growls from the other end.

But it's not just from over the phone this time.

This time, it can also be heard echoing down the hallway from outside.

The phone slips straight out Noah's palm and clatters to the floor. He makes a break for the door in a wild sprint as its knob turns, seizing the handle just before it completes its rotation. He digs his left shoulder into the door and uses himself as a makeshift barricade to keep what they called "The Breather" out. The kid's not nearly strong enough, however, and the door comes flying open with a kick so mighty it's more like a battering ram, sending Noah tumbling straight to the carpet. (Maybe if he had used his other hand to help hold the door rather than the camera he would've had a better chance at keeping the depraved serial killer out...)

But regardless, Noah gets a worm's-eye view of The Breather's curvy silhouette lurking in his doorway, kitchen knife in hand. She invites herself into the guest room, cockily strolling in and taking her time since the frozen-in-fear Noah's not going anywhere any time soon. She sits in the space between his thighs and digs the heels of her boots into his outstretched arms to pin him to the floor with. Now that she's closer to the camera, you can make out some details. She looks just like those stock images of a shady, faceless, hoodie'd figure to represent Dark Web hackers, but with a feminine twist.

 _"What's a kid like you doing on the Dark Web?"_ that same snarling voice from the phone barks out the shadow cast by her drawn hood.

 _"I-I was just making a video, I swear! Oh God, **PLEASE** don't hurt me!"_ Noah begs for his life even more terrified than usual.

 _"A video huh?"_ her words heavy with contempt, leaning closer to the camera to reveal her face, though it's still mostly obscured by a procedure mask so she looks like the love child of a surgeon and a back-alley creep. _" **I'll give you something to film.** "_

She pries open the fly on Noah's pajama pants, sending a button flying off-screen and his genitals flopping out onto the floor. The only inch of her appearance not censored by some article of clothing are her eyes, a pair of big brown ones laced with a beastly and malignant intent. The Breather scoops up Noah's scrotum with the flat side of her knife, inspecting it like a chef would his food. He audibly shivers at the harsh iciness of the metal on such a sensitive area of his body. Then she moves a floor up by taking a spoonful of his flaccid cock with her blade. All she would have to do is twist her knife ever so slightly and Noah would be sterilized. His shivers of cold devolve to shivers of crippling fear towards this psychological torture.

But in the end, it's all just teasing. After all, who's she kidding? If she castrated him, she wouldn't have a toy to play with. In one violent lunge she stabs the knife earthbound towards Noah's head...into his hood, further pinning him to the floor. Then she wraps her fingers around his penis, hands garbed with sky blue smooth surgical gloves that surely feel angelic against his shaft, and begins jerking. At first, his shrunken penis seems nonexistent in her balled fist, but it eventually balloons big enough until his pink tip is just barely peeking out between her thumb and index finger. Noah whines as his legs squirm underneath her thick thighs at the fist pumping up and down on his cock.

 _"You like that, you little shit?"_ she demeans like a dominatrix whilst ruthlessly tugging on him. _"Just how you like all that twisted shit you looked up?"_

 _"N-No! I-It made me s-sick, I swear! Ple **E** ase stop hurting m **E** e!"_

Her choke moves down to squeeze Noah's balls. _"YOU make me sick, you **PERV!** "_

She accentuates that last word by crushing Noah's sack like a soda can. A full soda can, that is, as 12oz of baby batter comes exploding out his shaft to paint The Breather's grey, blood-stained hoodie with. Noah's break-neck but explosive climax is emphasized with his pained squeak, followed by his soft attempts at catching his breath. She watches in disgust as cum sops off her sleeve. She yanks the knife out the carpet and holds the shine of its razor tip to Noah's throat.

 _"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't carve your neck open like the pig you are like I do every other creep I track down."_

All Noah can return is incoherent blubbering. The Breather rolls the eyes of her annoyed scowl, likely far too used to this old song and dance of _"Please don't!"_. She then rises to her feet and lets Noah off the hook out of pity.

 _"You're in the wrong place, kid,"_ she warns before disappearing in the darkness of the doorway.

Noah spends the next half minute trying to steady his vitals as he wipes the tears from his face, prior to pulling himself up to a bow-legged stand, shutting his door, and shambling back to his desk. You get a glimpse back out the window as he plops down onto his chair, and The Breather's rape van is nowhere to be seen. He reassembles his set-up before tiredly addressing you.

 _"Alright..."_ Noah pants. He's a complete mess as always, but this time, he's...different. Worse. You haven't seen him this disturbed and shaken since SCP-106... _"Usually, I wouldn't let...setbacks like that get to me for the sake of the video but this time... **a serial killer just invaded my home.** I think that's enough of the Dark Web for one sitting...I'll see you guys in the ne-"_

A small pop-up window barges into Noah's laptop.

It's an invitation to "The Red Room".


	10. Chapter 10: The Red Room

_"Huh?"_ Noah perks up at the invitation. At the same time, a Location Services icon starts flashing on the top right corner of the screen, but he's too distracted by the summons to spot it. _"What's this?...I've heard of Red Rooms before, I'm not sure what they are though...I guess we can check out one last thing on The Dark Web. I have tons of malware protection after all, what's the worst that could happen?"_

Noah accepts the invite via the click of his mouse. The progress bar drags across the window with the speed of a snail. It's downloading something big.

Meanwhile, the door in the background opens a crack, quietly enough so Noah doesn't notice. Hell, _you_ barely notice.

Upon finally loading the Red Room, the blue glow on Noah's face dips to solid black, because the window now displays a full-screen video-recording of a dark padded cell, with a single spotlight that shines down onto a cord dangling from the ceiling like mistletoe.

The door opens up a bit more and a black figure stands in the doorway. It's not The Breather. Noah is continually left none the wiser, too invested in his Dark Web browsing.

Off on the side of the window is a small green number in the 4,000's that keeps fluctuating up and down. It's a view-count.

 _"Is this a...livestream?"_ Noah quietly asks, perturbed.

The black figure steps forward, in a machine-like stride that garners almost no sound whatsoever, still keeping Noah oblivious. The intruder gets close enough to the camera, right over the kid's shoulder, so that their details can be distinguished. It's a female with hips almost busting out her cargo pants from sheer shapeliness. She's further dressed in a ski-mask, tank-top, and fingerless gloves, and her beefy right arm is bundled with a dragon-like gang tattoo.

Noah should've listened to The Breather.

The Kidnapper swoops a black plastic bag over Noah's head and viciously holds for a couple moments as he soundlessly gasps and thrashes, before succumbing to the suffocation. After cutting the blood supply off from his brain, The Kidnapper lets Noah go so his limp body lazily slumps in his office chair. She walks around in front of her out-cold victim, filling most of the screen with her backside, and picks up his head, curiously inspecting it through the bag. You can just feel her libido building with every second she spends eye-fucking Noah's unconscious body. She lets him go and lifts her foot up so she can tear her boot off her ankle. The Kidnapper repeats the action with her other leg, then unbuttons her jeans before peeling the cuffs off her bare feet so she's completely naked from the waist down. The bottom half of her perfectly spherical, milky bubble butt hangs out the tail of her top. She sits in Noah's lap, snaking her legs under the chair's arms as they sway off the seat, and performs some dexterous gymnastics with her white moon to get it perfectly fitted around his penis as it dangles from his pajama fly.

She reaches her hand around and starts lusciously tuning the plump scrotum bulging out from the two locked genitalia, which is enough stimulation to have Noah's comatose brain swell his penis up with blood cells as it sits within the warm swathe of The Kidnapper's womb. The second home invader of the night plants her hands on Noah's shoulders and begins delicately pumping up and down on his loins. Her moans start off as soft and sparse, but they pick up in frequency and volume in sync with her waist as it begins hammering down on Noah's groin like a blacksmith. The fierce movements of The Kidnapper raping Noah in his sleep makes the chair's axis tilt to the left, giving you a side view of what looks like a burglar fucking a bag-and-tagged corpse. She cradles his head like it's her own baby as her body movement indicates she's getting close.

You can see the shadow of her agape mouth stretching underneath the thin fabric of her balaclava. _"Оhh, ебать..."_ she raspily whines in a foreign language. _"Ohhh мой Бог... OH, БЛЯДЬ!"_

The Kidnapper completely splatters the seat with buckets worth of vaginal discharge, soiling the whole damn chair to an almost irrevocable state of sogginess. After catching her breath, she climbs off of Noah's soaked lap and rubs her pussy as it still froths with the residue of her explosive climax in a "victory lap" of sorts. She gets her cargos back to her waist so she can reach the cellphone that lies within one of the pockets, speed-dialing someone and giving them a quick call.

 _"На моем пути."_

As she slides the phone back into her pants, she notices the facecam. Her cold dead eyes, sinking into a pit of blackness filling her sockets, stare into your soul before she masks the lens with her palm and shuts it off, leaving only the video capture of the Red Room. There's about a minute of dead air before an announcement displays.

 _" **THE SHOW BEGINS IN 30 SECONDS** "_

And exactly 30 seconds later, just as promised, a cheery whistling can be heard echoing throughout the padded cell of The Red Room. It gets closer and closer, louder and louder, until finally the livestream's operator steps into the spotlight to address you and her vast turnout of sick creeps. She's kept anonymous by a blank hockey mask, and she's otherwise dressed in black and white medical scrubs, though it's hard to tell since she's so damn stained in the blood of her past victims that her attire might as well be dyed red.

 _"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight's show!"_ her dramatic voice booms with showman-like glee. _"I'm The Red Room's humble host, The Executioner, and this week we have a very special guest. He's running a bit late, unfortunately; the little brat had a whole firewall of proxies my lovely assistant took a while to penetrate, but I just knew from the second I found out about his hobby that I had to have him on the show! You see, he's a geek who has nothing better to do than to browse all sorts of rundown dumps with his camera. So he'll be delighted to learn that he gets to explore my infamous Red Room all he wants! And he might be a little less thrilled to hear that you and I will get to explore **his** body all **we** want~..."_

A commercial door opens off-screen. The Executioner's head cocks accordingly in the direction.

 _"Ah, speak of the Devils, there they are! Fashionably late, huh? Took the scenic route?"_

 _"Отвали,"_ The Kidnapper snarls in gravelly Russian as she enters the shot with a still unconscious Noah slung over her shoulder.

 _"Peachy as always, dear. You know what to do,"_ she coldly commands as she goes off to fetch something.

The Kidnapper pries her victim from her clavicle, tears him out of his shirt, and locks his wrists and ankles in two strips of duct tape so he slackly drapes a couple inches from the padded floor by the lightbulb string-like cord. The Executioner returns, her appearance heralded by the wheeling of a medical cart loaded to the brim with all sorts of gnarly torture tools and bondage equipment. She rips the bag off his head just to blindfold him and pop a ball gag in his mouth, before handing her minion a fat wad of cash. The Russian goes to leave with her payment.

 _"What, not gonna stay and watch?"_ The Executioner asks a bit disappointed.

 _"Спаси меня видео."_

 _"Your loss."_

Right after the door closes, indicating The Kidnapper's departure, The Executioner slap Noah across the face, instantly snapping him awake. _"Wakey wakey!"_

 _"MHPH!"_ His head shoots up from its slump, darting around despite all directions being everything being solid black from his perspective. _"Mh-Mhph mm mph?! Mmhph mm mhph mm mmmph?!"_ his muffled grogginess is instantly vaporized by a frenzied hysteria.

 _"Don't panic, dear! You might be a Red Room star but the chat seems like it's in a good mood tonight. Maybe they'll go easy on you. Hell, maybe even **I'll** go easy on you..."_

 _"Mm mmph, mhn **MHN MHN, MMPNH MMPH MMMN MMPH!** "_

Ignoring his noisy incoherent pleads, The Executioner turns to you and starts scanning the chat, letting her heavy chest hang from behind her wet shirt inches from the webcam. Her scarlet eyes sear through the monitor as they dart from side-to-side, reading the hundreds of messages as they flood in one by one, a torrent of requests and comments all sent by anonymous sickos.

 _" **haxxer_man:** Put that whip to good use._  
 _ **guest34879:** i wanna see him CUM_  
 _ **Duwang5:** I bet that kid has one cute bubble butt..._  
 _ **Lewdimagery:** aww hes so precious_  
 _ **guest957428:** TICKLE HIM!_  
 _ **JustNine:** OwO, is that a feather on the cart?_  
 _ **D3m0nm4n:** Wtf am I doing here, this isn't bathroom cams"_

 _"I'm getting a lot of mixed results. You can't please everybody..."_ she retrieves a horsewhip from the cart and slaps her other palm with it, making Noah jump. _" **But you sure can try!** "_

She twists him around so his back's facing you, showing off his ass as it tightly fills up the upper back part of his pajamas. She seizes his waistband and let his pants pool at his ankles so he's mooning you and thousands others against his will. The Executioner's palm comes crashing down onto his left buttock, making it recoil with a jiggle that lasts for five whole seconds.

 _"OMHPH!"_ Noah miserably cries.

Just like his facial cheek from getting slapped awake, Noah's bottom cheek is stained with a red handprint, but this time, The Executioner doesn't give it a chance to heal. She spanks his rear-end with unrelenting cruelty, making him try to squeak and beg as both bubbles of chalk-white flesh slowly devolve to tomato red in pigmentation. On a ravenous blood-high she begins using the horsewhip to amplify the pain by tenfold, so the blunt smacks switch to sharp lashes that make him squeal like a pig. The Executioner reddens both his cheeks with lashes and whippings from her riding crop. Finally, her arm tucker out and she relents. Noah's backside is littered with about a hundred handprints and whip welts, each and every one of them solid crimson. The Executioner grabs two handfuls of the hot red mess, groping his cheeks and spreading them wide before letting go. They clap together and ripple for an eternity, and for a couple seconds The Executioner's skin-colored handprints can't be missed, before being scorched from existence by the sunburn on Noah's butt.

Returning to the inventory of BDSM instruments atop the medical cart, the torture technician switches the crop out for a white feather she plucked up, eyeing it like a surgeon would his tools. She crouches down and husks his socks away to strip him barefoot before scooping his tied-together ankles up with the choke of her left hand to put his soft naked soles in the spotlight. With the other hand, she begins tickle-torturing the bottom of his feet with the feather. The prickly bristles of white brush down the wrinkles of his arches, making his ankles squirm against the duct tape's choke. All he lets out are stifled chortles, defiantly trying to stop himself from giving The Executioner and her perverse audience what they want: laughter. The feather moves down to the balls of his feet, roughly tracing the butt-shaped bulges. Accordingly, his chuckles become more clear-cut and audible as he starts to squirm. His poor little feet try so hard to leap out of The Red Room host's palms but her grip is too iron. The quill then reaches the tip of his soles, crawling underneath the bottom of his big toe and mercilessly streaking across the rest to peak the foot torture.

His chuckles evolve to full-blown hearty laughs, sprinkled with _"Stop!"_ 's and _"No!"_ 's. After one final lap of foot tickling, this time using the nails of her bare hands to playfully scratch his soles with, The Executioner finally lets go of his ankles, allowing his shins to fall back to where they were so his worn-out toes can scrape the cushioned ground with his swaying. The livestream buffers ahead a couple seconds, after she's twisted him back around so his face, moistened by tears and reddened by strain, can be seen, as well as his soft dick as it uselessly dangles between his bent naked legs. The Red Room operator shovels the worm up with the arm of the feather and skillfully jockeys it like a painter with his brush, mixing two types of forced pleasures into his crotch that manifest as a bouncing erection. The hundreds of razor-thin hairs move up and down his stony shaft, tracing the throbbing veins and tickling the small crater aiming at you. She makes sure not to neglect his balls, dusting the smoothness of his scrotum as his nuts ravenously bounce from within them.

 _" **HMHMHMHMHMHMMHM! MM HMPH, MM HMPH, MMMPH MPH! HMMHMHMHMHM!** "_ he begs as he cranes his head back.

Noah's entire being is tortured by a bizarre tingly sensation that makes his legs squirm and throat go raw from excessive belly laughter. At this point, he's almost as red as the blood on The Executioner's shirt and wringing his lungs dry with screeches of forced guffawing. His face is soaked with tears and his chest is soaked with sweat. He's completely glistening with a blinding glimmer whilst his laughter suddenly stifles as his body instinctively braces for the orgasm of his life. The Executioner brings the tickle torture to a screeching halt as to edge him, abandoning the load stewing in his hefty, tightening scrotum to induce a surely excruciating case of blue balls. All tension is exhaled out from the situation as she gives Noah a chance to breathe, so heavily that it looks and sounds like he's ran a marathon.

After letting him squirm against the agony of a hampered orgasm for a while, The Executioner gets behind Noah and on her knees as she tosses the feather away. That doesn't mean she's done tormenting his penis though. She gives him a good old fashioned reacharound as she sheds her mask, though her face isn't seen since she buries it in between Noah's buttcheeks as they still steam with crimson heat. Noah's throat and lungs go right back into overdrive again as all sorts of overpowering sensations haunt his body, this time from The Executioner simultaneously milking his cock with her fist and milking his prostate with her tongue. In another buffer, the video skips ahead at just the perfect moment when a rocket of cum comes firing out from Noah's urethra, cleanly punching the webcam filming all of this and almost knocking it off balance. The lens is coated with a thick white.

 _"Holy SHIT!"_ The Executioner exclaims from behind the new 'overlay'. _"I don't know if I should be pissed or impressed!"_ she laughs before wiping off the cum stain with her thumb, masked once again. _"On one hand, I think you ruined my keyboard but on the other, that must've been two entire meters! Most guys can't even piss that far! What's your secret, Noah? Green tea, carrots?"_ she asks as she flicks the frosting away and sheds his face of the spit-soaked gag.

The second the red ball pops out of Noah's mouth, he wastes no time screaming at the top of his lungs and thrashing against his restraints. _" **SOMEBODY HELP ME!** "_

 _"Geez, how come my victims are never up for small-talk?"_ the sadist mutters with irritation as she steps off-screen. _"Anyways, I'm gonna go hit up the little girl's room real quick. You don't go anywhere where now! I promised 20 more minutes!"_ her hammy voice gets more and more distant as she disappears to take five in her torture of Noah, leaving the victim quiet and alone with you and your fellow watchers.

He pants and sobs a bit before recomposing himself and blindly addressing the camera. _"Well, uh...to my audience, my **YouTube** one, if you're still watching this... I think you guys have gotten your Dark Web fill for today, to say the least. So um...s-...see you next time?"_

The capture card hits its half hour recording capacity and the file ends.


	11. Chapter 11: The Shadow Web

Noah's irregular setup from last week's installment makes a reappearance this episode. The only difference is that the background looks to be a glossy apartment dorm rather than the dimly lit bedroom of a house.

 _"Hey guys, Noah here! Thanks to the break-in from last episode, we're staying in an apartment for a couple days just to be safe. Still grounded though, so... I guess all I can do is another Dark Web video? Because the last one went sooo great..."_ he rolls his eyes, cringing at all the still fresh memories of being a Red Room star. _"I'm real sorry if you aren't digging these types of videos guys, but I promise I'll be back to form by next week! Let's just try to make the best of this,"_ he assures as he boots his laptop and its capture card up once more. _"So instead of just combing the Dark Web again, I thought to dig a little deeper this time. And after hours...well, minutes, of looking, I managed to get my hands on this thing called The Shadow Web Browser. I heard the Shadow Web is like, the Dark Web's final circle of Hell or something hardcore like that. But we'll just have to see ourselves!"_

Rather than opening ANN, Noah logs into another browser, labelled "The Shadow Web Portal". Its home page is a full-screen image of a dark, foreboding subway stairwell, like the one Noah descended down in the beginning of his unwitting Site-19 exploration. He clicks in the center of the screen, the black abyss at the stairwell's foot, and is taken to what looks like a darker and edgier version of The Dark Wiki. Even seedier digital content to explore.

 _"Pay 2 Rape_  
 _DarkBook_  
 _Burned At The Stake_  
 _The Pedo Handbook"_

 _"Well, let's check out the only one of those that DOESN'T sound overtly horrible,"_ Noah sighs in an 'already done with this shit' tone as he clicks on 'DarkBook'. What follows is an agonizingly slow progress bar. _"Uuuugh!"_ Noah groans like a whiny bored kid. _"Sorry about the load time guys, The Deep Web is already slow, couple that with the crappy apartment Wi-Fi and we're gonna be here a while."_

When DarkBook finally scrambles itself together onto Noah's screen, it turns out to be a gothic social network.

 _"Oh, so it's like an emo version of Facebook, awesome! I'd make an account but I am NOT visiting the Shadow Web regularly! Let's just check out the status update feed."_

 _" **FML - Posted 1 minute ago:** I just watched Daisy's Destruction on here. Literally contemplating suicide now._  
 _ **ChloE - Posted 1 minute ago:** Has anyone heard of 'Noir'? I've been skimming through tons of Dark Web conspiracy boards and some say they're this cult of creepy home invaders dressed in all black except for white masks. Pretty sure they're just The Strangers ripoffs._  
 _ **ShadowWeeb - Posted 2 minutes ago:** The Red Room host is my waifu._  
 _ **bsbb - Posted 2 minutes ago:** I wish Luka Kumiega did hits on kids. Babysitting is the WORST!_  
 _ **goodluck - Posted 3 minutes ago:** 2d64199b3ef6b7e8092209b870fef4d8"_

 _"Oo, a link!"_ Noah brightens up as he highlights the address and copies it. _"I'll save that for later. Let's stick with The Shadow Wiki for now."_

This time, he thankfully edits out the wait involved in returning to the Shadow Web directory for a new batch of links to skim through.

 _"Little Friends_  
 _MySisters_  
 _Flesh Trade_  
 _The Gatekeeper_  
 _Black Hat Post"_

 _"Black Hat Post..."_ he reads as he selects it with the crunch of his mouse 1. _"I read when I was researching for this video that a white hat is a hacker that uses his skills for good things, like testing software security, while a black hat hacker...well, we'll see."_

The webpage loads and it's a forum with a black and lime color scheme, formatted like a Q&A. The front page is a feed of the most "RECENT REQUESTS".

 _" **REQ:** 212-838-7743. This is the phone number of the asshole who my wife is fucking behind my back. I can't find him in the phone book or WhitePages._  
 _ **RES:** His name is Kyle Pinkman, he lives at 569 Stuart Street Alquippa PA, and he works at 1846 Brookwood St."_

The next request is accompanied by a picture of a girl definitely taken without her knowledge.

 _" **REQ:** who is this woman?_  
 _ **RES:** She's a small-time model, Hannah De Bauch. I can't find her address but her mobile phone number is 609-555-7428 and its last known location was 40.0583° N, 74.4057° W._

 _" **REQ:** Where is Noah Riverwood?_  
 _ **RES:** He's currently staying at 100 Congress St, Apt. 84 Springfield, MA. Have fun."_

Noah's vibrantly lit apartment becomes a blackened hellscape in an instant thanks to a power outage. All that saves his face, twisted into a widened shock, from getting swallowed by shadows like everything else is the screen's blue glow of his now useless, disconnected laptop.

 _"Aw, dangit!"_ Noah curses as he scrambles you up off your tripod. He seems to not have gotten to the part where he was doxxed for the whole world to see, the poor oblivious kid. _"Of all the times for the power to go out...It might be the breaker, let me check it real quick."_

He uses his phone's flashlight to navigate the darkness with, stepping outside his apartment and gently shutting the door behind him so the sound of metal clicking and wood creaking is only faintly carried down the shadows of an endless-seeming hallway by an echo. Bare feet can be heard pitter-pattering from beneath you as Noah makes his way down the slender corridor lined with numbered doors just like his own that would be pitch black if it weren't for the feeble shine of his flashlight. Noah enters the complex's stairwell through a commercial door, then one of its supply rooms through a red wooden door marked "Maintenance Closet". The place is cramp and dank, cluttered with all sorts of storage shelves and cardboard boxes. The breaker box's panel is wide open to show that its switch has been flipped off. Noah cranks the lever on and the box gives one loud and satisfying start-up hum like a generator roaring to life as it rejuvenates the whole floor with electricity.

 _"There, crisis a- **AHKK!** "_

A thin garrote wire comes swooping down the screen. Noah drops his camera to the floor and it lands in the shadow of the corner so you get a low angle shot of him getting strangled by a mostly unseen individual dressed in all black. His feet are lifted up off the floor as they kick and squirm in a fight or flight reflex, before he's lowered back down onto his knees to represent his dwindling life, then onto his side so he's laid to rest and his attempted assassin has to crouch down into frame. She's a bald woman covered from head to toe in European prison tattoos, though most of them aren't seen thanks to her sharp dress code of a business suit, leather gloves, shiny heels, and pantyhose. She stares him in the eye as she chokes him to death, however the stern look of professional fury dissipates once she gets a good look at her victim's purple face.

 _"Jestes tylko...dzieckiem?!"_ voice clearly conditioned by heavy smoking, she speaks Polish over Noah's chokes and wheezes. Wait...a Pole? You remember one of the DarkBook status updates mentioning an assassin named Kumiega, a Polish surname, and how they didn't kill those under 18 or something. _"Mój klient dran mnie oklamal..."_ The circulation to Noah's brain is long cut off, so all that leftover blood is dumped into his crotch instead to make for one throbbing hard-on that pokes straight out his unbuttoned fly. She chuckles when she notices it. _"Cóz, gdy jestem tutaj, równie dobrze moge sie zabawic, zanim pójde..."_

Using the garrote tightly wrapped around his neck as a leash, Luka reels Noah in for a kiss, almost like an apology for killing him. But then she tears the wire from his nape like she's ripping off a band-aid and he plummets to the ground, hyperventilating and hacking as he rubs his bruised throat. The hitwoman rises to a stand and slips her hand underneath the lapels of her suit, pulling out a silenced pistol, pointing the barrel straight at Noah's head, and pulling the trigger. With one little "pmph!" from a handgun as its suppressor spews out a puff of thin smoke, Noah's grueling gasps for breath are instantly snuffed out of his existence, as is all structure and movement in his body. For a second, you think Noah is actually dead, but then remember that that'd be impossible since someone had to upload the video you're watching. Kumiega digs two of her fingers into her dress skirt and starts vigorously scratching the moist pinkness below her waist, which induces the creaking of her leather gloves, the squelching of her fleshy insides, and the soft and shuddery moans of her unprofessional self.

The hitwoman bends her legs a bit to better aim her genitals over Noah's, so clear, watery fluids can drip down from her fingers and vulva onto his erection, still high and mighty despite the rest of his body seeming stone dead. Her gasps and squeak increase in volume before finally, a perfectly aimed spray of pussy sap comes pouring down onto Noah's cock from a gap in her skirt's waistband. She expertly steadies her vitals and recomposes herself in record time before getting on her knees between Noah's slump legs. She bends over and deepthroats his glistening cock with such aptitude it's like she was born without a gag reflex. She makes sure to slurp up every cell of vaginal juice off Noah's hard-on to stylishly cover her tracks. Luka's thoroughness underestimates Noah's sensitivity, however, and she only gives herself more of a mess to clean up when an outburst of semen hails down onto his face. Well, that at least proves he isn't dead, since corpses can't cum. (That should be a band name.)

 _"Gówno,"_ she curses with a reluctant smirk.

She grabs Noah by the neck and laps the self-facial from up off his cheeks, eventually getting him and the crime scene squeaky clean. Luka plants a ginger kiss upon Noah's forehead and plucks something out of his temple that wasn't seen from this angle until now. It's a black tranquilizer dart, no bigger than a tack, that she then slips into her coat to clean up any evidence (except the camcorder she never noticed), straightens her tie, and exits the closet. All you can do is stare at Noah's unconscious body for the next couple minutes until the sedatives finally drain out his system and he stirs awake. He sluggishly picks himself up off the cold concrete floor, groaning in discomfort. You can just tell by the way he looks that he must feel like he got hit by a train in his unplanned nap.

 _"What...happened?"_ he asks hoarsely as he feels his sore throat, its bruising already fading.

He notices the camera smuggled in the corner and crawls over to retrieve it.

 _"The last thing I remember is...turning the breaker back on...I must've passed out or hit my head or something...explains why I feel like crap...doesn't explain why I feel all wet,"_ Noah mumbles as he rises to his feet and goes to leave the breaker room. _"Remind me to watch over the footage later,"_ he facetiously asks of you.

He ventures underneath the glowing red "EXIT" sign of the stairwell's door and takes another lap back down his floor's hallway, now it's all sunshiny and brightly lit; the polar opposite of what it was not but 6 minutes ago. Despite the lights never once dimming again, the atmosphere certainly dips right back down to a survival horror setting when Noah approaches his apartment and finds a severed, human-sized doll head hanging from the door by the knob.


	12. Chapter 12: The Doll Maker

_"What the heck is this?"_ Noah asks as he snatches the eerie trinket from up off his door knob. _"A creepy doll head? I'm glad I'm not staying here long, with neighbors like these,"_ he sighs as he tosses the head aside and enters his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

You notice two black figures standing far down the corridor behind Noah. Probably just two fellow residents. He returns to his desk, puts the camera back on the tripod, and takes a seat in front of his laptop.

 _"Back to it, I guess,"_ Noah mumbles. He sinks one of his cheeks into his fist as he lazily browses the Shadow Web, until something hits him and he instantly brightens up to his chipper self. _"Oh wait! I just remembered! That link I found on DarkBook! It must still be in my clip tray, let's see what it is!"_

Noah pastes _"2d64199b3ef6b7e8092209b870fef4d8"_ into the empty URL bar before sandwiching it between HTTP and _".tsp"_ and pressing enter. He hovers his cursor over the tab to see the name of the site.

 _"The Doll Maker...Hey, I remember that from last week! I wonder why it was moved to the Shadow Web. I guess it was too extreme for the Dark Web? Let's see!"_

When the site finally does load, this time, it's not dead. No, it's very much alive. Just like everything on the Shadow Web, its color scheme is dark and gloomy, but here there's a girly twist to it. A little bit of pink accented with crayon fonts and supported by a sweet and simple music box tune in the background. At first it just seems like a wall of text, accompanied by a picture of a startlingly realistic mannequin taking the likeness of a young boy, not too different from Noah, as a matter of fact.

 _"You might've heard of me before. My work is quite infamous. I've made a name for myself in the trafficking industry, especially its Deep Web branch. They call me The Doll Maker. My life's work is fashioning toys for people to play with. But not out of wood, nor plastic, nor fabric. No, I only work with flesh. Human flesh. I picked it up as a hobby back when I still lived in Europe. The local brothel had an endless supply of clay to mold. Canvases to paint. Boys to transform. Transform into immobile, lightweight, irreversibly submissive sex dolls through surgery. Never would I have imagined how profitable my experiments would become. And what was once a fun pastime became a booming business that's still thriving to this very day. Would you like to purchase a Doll yourself? One's only 8,500 EUR, or 10,000 USD. Or maybe you'd prefer a sample first? Scroll down to the gallery below. I believe my work speaks for itself :)"_

Noah's mouse wheel squeaks downwards and without warning the whole screen is nothing but a big giant blur. Whatever is in The Doll Maker's gallery, it's apparently so bad Noah had to censor every pixel of it in editing. His cheeks immediately puff and turn green at the sight and he slaps his palm over his lips. He's just barely able to swallow the vomit riding up his throat.

 _"OKAY. WOW. SCREW THAT, SCREW THIS, I'M DONE,"_ Noah groans in pure disgust as he backs straight the hell out of that site for good.

However, there was one thing he missed that you were able to catch and skim before the window returned to the wiki. Below The Doll Maker's gallery was a quick "How-To" section.

 _"Now that you've seen my work, I'm sure you're wondering how I make these masterpieces. Usually an artist never tells, but I'll briefly brush over the process to give you an idea of how effectively I disable these boys. First I get one of my accomplices to find the proper model. I only work with males aged 16-21, preferably with little muscle mass and zero body hair. They are the perfect blank canvas, the perfect human template. Then they mark the model's door with a doll head so I can take it from there and deal with them myself. After restraining and taking them to my personal operating theater, I slit their voice boxes, because a quiet patient is a happy patient :). Then I sever the tendons in their wrists, ankles, elbows, and knees, then deaden their muscles with off-brand relaxants until their bodies are conditioned to be completely sluggish and impotent. The combination of the disconnected joints and ruined nervous system makes them immobile and helpless, but always lucid, feeling, and conscious, for the rest of their lives. But that's all the secrets of my surgery I'm willing to share. If you'd like to learn more, you'll just have to buy a Doll yourself..."_

Noah spends the next few moments rubbing his face and ruminating at his home screen, traumatized by whatever horrors were photographed and published on that awful website. _"Sorry guys, it's gonna take me a while to muster back the motivation to keep exploring,"_ he sorrowfully admits as he clenches his eyes, as if desperately trying to stamp the images out of his mind with his eyelids.

Noah clicks on a random link from the next batch of Shadow Websites just to give his viewers something to chew on as he recomposes himself out of his anguish-induced daze.

 _"ZeroDay_  
 _Shadow Market_  
 _EuroFirearms_  
 _HiddenCams"_

His attempts at connecting to ZeroDay fail thanks to his trash internet.

 _"Man, my Wi-Fi sucks..."_ Noah notices. _"Maybe there's a nice neighbor that has an open network I could use..."_ he mumbles as he cracks open his Wi-Fi settings in the top right corner.

 _" **ApartmentGuest** \- Connected, Open, Weak_  
 _ **D64PC** \- Secured, Moderate_  
 _ **FBI Surveillance Van** \- Secured, Strong_  
 _ **HIDDENNETWORK** \- Open, Strong"_

 _"Ah, here's one!"_ Noah brightens up whilst he hooks his internet up to 'HIDDENNETWORK'.

The bars gradually step back up to an optimal internet connection and Noah is able to fluently surf the Shadow Web once more. Right before he can sink his teeth in ZeroDay, his train of thought is interrupted by the faint jingles of a music box. It's the tune from The Doll Maker website. Noah instinctively mutes his laptop, but the music persists.

It's coming from inside the apartment.

Noah takes the camcorder with him as he climbs out of his office chair and follows the pale call of the song. The closer he gets to his front door, the louder the sound becomes. He holds the camera lens right up to the peephole, showing a distorted and rounded view of the hallway. Standing in front of Noah's door is a male mannequin, just like the one from the site, holding the small antique music box as the source of the sinister ambiance. Before Noah can provide any of his enlightening commentary on the creepy telegram, a hand wrapped in a black welding glove slaps down onto his forehead from behind.

He drops the camera and it tumbles underneath a table. A petite, sweet-looking woman has Noah in a headlock, with a serrated knife to his throat so he can't even think to scream. She's albino and seems incorruptibly gentle, which is quite the juxtaposition from the blood streaking through her cute short swirl of strawberry hair like highlights and down her baby face. Crimson handprints run up and down her body like a child into fingerpainting tried scaling the butcher's apron draped over her legs. An innocent little smirk is parallel to her demonic eyes, hidden behind a pair of unassuming bifocals, and she's dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

 _"Good evening,"_ she quietly greets with utmost cheeriness, voice seasoned by a German-ish accent. _"Do you know who I am?"_

 _"...y-...yes..."_

 _"Excellent. So you know what I'm going to do to you. I know you might be frightened, but there's nothing to be scared of. All I'm here to do is perfect you. And seeing how...ideal your body already is,"_ she lecherously shudders while caressing his face, _"I won't have to make very many tweaks. My work is already done! Heh... And don't worry, I won't sell you. You can be my own personal pet. See, nothing to worry about, right? You know I'll take very good care of you. But first, I'd like a...sample before I take you to my theater. You wouldn't mind that, would you?"_

All it takes is one glance to tell that every fiber in Noah's body is paralyzed with fear, so speaking isn't an option.

 _"Good, you're a quiet one. I may not even have to slit your voice-box!"_

The Doll Maker bundles a pair of plastic handcuffs around Noah's wrists and ties them to the door knob above his head, then places her apron upon the coat rack and tucks her glasses away so she can comfortably take a seat in his lap so they're face to face. She wraps her arms around his neck and starts violently tonguing him to mask his screams for help, in the meanwhile slipping one of her thumbs into her waistband to pull her pants down just enough so her chubby and perfectly spherical rump can sag out onto Noah's thighs, then she gingerly pinches the band of her panties and snaps them to the side, so her slavering pussy can be bared. Their shared saliva pours down Noah's chin like a waterfall as The Doll Maker starts grinding his groin to dust with her asscrack until her insides are occupied by the erection still hanging out of his pajama pants. Noah tugs against his restraints and tries calling for help, but The Doll Maker's mouth over his makes for an effective echo chamber.

She giddily bounces up and down as she makes her "model"'s cock raw and sore with excessive, overzealous riding. She moans and shudders with great volume but her and Noah's lips form a mutual gag. Noah's toes all scrunch and by now you know his body language too well to not realize that he's let an unseen cumshot escape into The Doll Maker's womb. The uncertified surgeon isn't too far behind, expelling his semen right back out with a squirt of her own. She disconnects the kiss so she can breathe, almost exhausted by the exercise of fucking Noah's brains out up against the door. Everything below his eyes is consumed by a crimson blush, and he's far too worn out to even scream at this point. A trail of spit still links the two's lips for a while before it's broken when The Doll Maker rises to a stand and Noah's cum, watery from mixing with hers, slops out from in between her legs onto Noah's thighs, making it look like he spilled a bowl of thin semen on his lap.

 _"Mein Gott...your body is even better than I thought! There's not a doubt in my mind at this point..."_ She bends down so she can address Noah in a menacing yet soft whisper. _" **You will be my magnum opus.** "_

She cuts Noah out of his restraints with her knife and gouges his neck with a syringe from her pocket, apparently injecting him with a sedative and knocking him clean out. Then she reassembles her attire of accessories of bifocals and an apron before crouching down and reaching underneath the table you've been hiding under. A black hand engulfs the camera lens and before you know it, you're face to face with the monster. She gives you an ominous little smirk before slinging Noah over her shoulder. She's strong for her size. That or Noah is as light as a feather. She lightly tromps over to his set-up, headed to make her escape out the back-door of the apartment; the balcony. However, her eye can't help but catch something on Noah's screen. His Wi-Fi settings.

 _"Oh Scheiße!"_ she swears, dropping you and Noah before making a break for the balcony and retreating down the fire escape outside. She's never seen again.

The camera's impact is soft on the floor's carpeting, while Noah hits his head so hard that it jolts him awake from his short nap. The Doll Maker uses some cheap-ass sedatives.

 _"Ow!"_ Noah cringes, holding the back of his bruised head. _"God...what happened?!"_

He scrambles you up to his feet with him and plops down into the seat of his chair. _"Where'd The Doll Maker go?! Aw, Jesus Christ..."_ he sighs as he puts you on the camera mount. _"Guys, I'm sorry, I really wanted to make this video as long as I could but every time I spend more than five seconds on this stupid thing, crazy freaks flock to me like moths to a-"_

The door in the background is kicked open with an explosive startle that could never be put to words. Probably the worst jumpscare of the whole Creepy Explorations series. Noah twists around to see three shadowy figures standing in the doorway, and one of them tosses a stun grenade in.

 _" **FLASHBANG!** "_


	13. Chapter 13: Swatted

Well, that explains why The Doll Maker bailed.

The little black canister explodes, making the screen go solid white for a split second. A haze of smoke exhales from Noah's body, now knocked clean out on the floor whilst the well-proportioned intruders tactically march in the apartment to reveal they're armed to the teeth with assault rifles and riot armor.

 _"Clear!"_

Two thirds of the SWAT team sweep through the living room to make sure it's secure, treating Noah's cheap rental apartment as some terrorist's hideout, while the remaining one crouches down next to its resident's limp body, so dazed by the explosion of a blinding light and a deafening ring that he's as good as unconscious. She checks his vitals just as her shoulder radio hisses with static.

 _"Attention all officers!"_ a crackly female voice alerts from over the walkie-talkie. _"A suspicious figure can be seen fleeing from the apartment complex. Most likely the unsub, pursuing immediately, over."_

 _"Shit, I think we might've raided the wrong apartment,"_ the SWAT officer says to her two fellow girls in blue.

 _"Maybe not,"_ one of them tries to remain optimistic as they begin tucking their firearms away. _"This chick could still be an accomplice. They do use the same network after all."_

 _"Pretty sure this is a dude,"_ the policewoman corrects as she picks Noah's head from up off the carpet to brandish his face. _"And the perp's network WAS public. There's a chance this is just some poor bastard who logged into the wrong Wi-Fi."_

They look to your left, the laptop screen, and notice Noah's been on The Shadow Web Portal.

 _"No way. He's a Shadow Web lurker. This is our guy, one of them, at least."_

 _"I dunno. You know how popular the big bad Deep Web is with stupid kids these days."_

 _"I don't want to embarrass the force and waste time by bringing in another wrong suspect. How about we do some good old fashioned field interrogation to make sure?"_

 _"Sounds like a plan,"_ the third cop says with a hint of sadism in her voice as she kicks the door shut behind her.

Another one scoops a pair of shiny, jangling handcuffs from up off her utility belt and stylishly spins them around her finger before squatting down and slapping them on Noah's wrists behind his back, then yanking his limp body up to its knees by his hood. The manhandling is enough to shake him out of his wispy stupor.

 _"Ughhh...What...what hap...?"_ Noah looks up and realizes there's three bulky shadows encircling him. _"WHAT THE-!"_

The barrel of a slick black M1911 is pressed up against the suspect's forehead, instantly shutting him up.

 _"We're only doing our jobs,"_ the policewoman says in a low, unfriendly inflection. _"If you impede that by drawing any unnecessary attention, we're authorized to apply lethal force."_ She accents her point by crunching her thumb down on the pistol's hammer. _" **Understand?** "_

Noah furiously shakes his head in agreement.

 _"Good boy. Now do you know why we're here, son?"_

 _"No!"_ Noah whisper-yells. _"No, I have no idea!"_

 _"Likely story._ " She looks up to the cop behind Noah, the one who cuffed him. _"Is he carrying anything?"_

She answers her partner's question by snapping the flimsy pajama pants off his buttcheeks, leaving them naked and unprotected. She sucks on her index finger and middle finger after snaking them past her balaclava before popping them right in between Noah's asscrack, like a fucked up wet willy. Noah grits his teeth and crosses his eyes, pitifully trying to restrain his own cries as to not anger his interrogators. He squirms the most violently and helplessly you've ever seen him as she makes sure to examine every nook and cranny of his insides. This cavity search makes his penis immediately swell up into an erection gasping for breath underneath his tight pajama pants.

 _"Oh-ho, getting confident now, are we?"_ the head cop mocks as she squats down in front of Noah and rips his pants in half with a single mighty tear, leaving him with nothing but his sweatshirt to keep him warm. His hard-on now unprotected, the SWAT officer flicks the fifth guest in the room so it jiggles like a doorstopper, making him cringe like crazy. _"Maybe playing good cop instead will get you to talk?"_

She starts teasing his cock like an owner would their pet, scratching the underside of his veiny shaft with two of her fingers in the same way her partner fingers him in the meanwhile. The third soldier watches from mostly off-screen, with her arms crossed and lips likely curled into a demented smile behind her ski-mask.

 _"I-I don't kn-know anything!"_ Noah swears, the boy's resistant and squirmy body language only amplified by tenfold now that he's being played with from the front and the back.

 _"Is that so? Lemme get this straight then. It just so happens that you're browsing the Shadow Web, on the HiddenNetwork, at the same apartment complex a notorious Deep Web hacker we've been tracking for weeks is hiding out at?"_

 _"Yes!"_ he squeaks, following speech barely comprehensible thanks to the shuddery shakiness racking his body from all sides. _"Notorious hacker?! I have n-no idea what you're t **A** lking about! I'm only st-st **A** ying here for a couple of days because of a **BREAK** -in! I didn't even rent this apartment, my parents d **I** d! A-And they're out for the night, I sw **EA** r!"_

 _"Hang on, I'm feeling something!"_ the 'inspector' alerts her team, scratching whatever unseen oddity is amid Noah's rectum. _"Wait, false alarm, that's just his prostate."_

At this point, tears are literally boiling in both his eyes as he desperately tries stifling his own screams, before finally his devastating nirvana comes bursting out his mouth like the water of a busted dam. The echoes don't get very far, however, as the third SWAT grunt finally jumps into the gangrape-pretending-to-be-an-interrogation and gags him with her pubic mound, grabbing Noah by the back of the hair and burying his face into her crotch, the lap of her black cargo pants soaked with wetness accumulated over watching this sick police brutality unfold. She digs her thumb past her waistband and pries her sticky pants open ever so slightly, just so her shaved bulge can be unleashed to stuff Noah's mouth with and silence his immodest calls.

 _"I think he's clean, ma'am!"_ the analyst (heh) concludes, though that certainly doesn't mean the end of her inspection any time soon.

The sensations of a woman's groin leaking down his throat, a playful handjob, and a thorough cavity search all at once mix together into a cocktail of heaven that comes gushing out Noah's penis in four thick ropes of white, all over the head officer's lap.

She gapes in disgust at the mess on her legs before firing up and ripping her M1911 from its holster, putting it back to Noah's forehead. _"You little scumbag! I don't even care if you're the perp or not now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't-"_

 _"Attention all officers!"_ another transmission from the department interrupts through the radios. _"We have the unsub cornered at a convenience store but it's turned into a hostage situation. We need backup, over!"_

The SWAT leader sighs as she pockets her pistol. _"You got lucky, kid,"_ she warns while slinging the G36K off her back and hurrying for the doorway.

Her partners-in-crime quickly pack up too.

 _"Hey wait,"_ the cavity searcher halts whilst shedding Noah of his silver restraints and noticing you: the camera mounted on their victim's desk. _"This kid's been recording all this! That's probably why he was on the Deep Web, just like that one Indian on YouTube. What do you want me to do with this camera?"_

 _"Just leave it alone. American cops have gotten away with doing way worse on camera."_

 _"Got it."_

Noah is left alone in the center of his living room, dog-tired, humiliated, and bottomless. After rubbing his bruised wrists and coughing up some vaginal lube, he crawls towards you and pulls himself up by his desk, freeing you from your stand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

 _"This night..."_ he puffs, _" **literally** could not get any worse!"_

There's a knock at the door.

 _"Oh, for God's sake, what now?!"_ the completely fed-up-at-this-point Noah rants as he stomps for the door. _"Is that hacker guy gonna 'repay the favor' of me getting the heat off of him?! Did The Breather find me again?! Does The Executioner wanna do another show?!"_

He twists the knob as far as it'll go and yanks the door open.

There's no one there.

Just a ding-dong-ditch, probably some bored kid.

Maybe Noah's fifth night of hell really is over.

The tension defuses. The threat of a fourth intruder for the night begins to dissipate. That is, until Noah turns around. The balcony door is wide open. A gust of wind washes in from the cold New York night. He scurries over to shut it and save his half-naked body from the 40-degree autumn chill. He looks down to his feet. For a moment, you don't understand why, but then he takes a step back to show that he was standing in...boot-prints. A faint trail of boot-prints indenting the beige carpet below and leading from the balcony into Noah's living room, only noticed by his naked and sensitive soles.

Someone's broken in.

In a knee-jerk reaction, he flicks a light-switch off, flushing his dorm with darkness, vaults over the kitchen counter, and shrinks into the fetal position up against it, filling most of the shot with his knees as he cowers behind a bar. He takes a big inhale behind the camera before holding his breath so nothing but silence can linger. He shivers and hides in the shadows, knowing, just knowing, that there's someone, somewhere, in his apartment.

But where?

The question is answered when Noah peers the camera up and a chalk white face looms over his.

He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he fires up and twirls around, filming the home invader as they ominously stalk from the other side of the bar. He turns back around to escape only to almost bump into a black brick wall that turns out to be a second intruder.

 _"Boo."_

Noah yelps and stumbles back, turning around. In hindsight it makes sense. One distracted us with the door knock whilst the other broke in through the patio. Anyways, the first intruder is magically on the other side of the counter now, almost like she teleported there to leave Noah completely sandwiched behind two hourglass figures, both locked in tight t-shirts and jeans of solid black to blend in with the darkness. The only thing that stands out is the Caucasian skin on their slender arms and hands and the equally colorless, plastic masks that keep them without any faces or humanity. You remember a passing status update Noah didn't really bother reading when he was browsing DarkBook at the beginning of the video.

 _"Has anyone heard of 'Noir'? I've been skimming through tons of Dark Web conspiracy boards and some say they're this cult of creepy home invaders dressed in all black except for white masks."_

You also recall seeing two menacing silhouettes stalking Noah from the hallway after his run-in with Mrs. Kumiega. At the time you assumed they were just apartment residents or staff, but now you realize Noir has had a shadowy, ever-lurking presence the whole time. And now they've finally decided to show themselves. Two fists punch out from underneath the camera, right through each of Noah's armpits and putting him in a Full Nelson Hold. He drops the camera to the tile floor so you get an extremely low angle of the nonconsensual threesome that's about to unfold before your very eyes.

Noah struggles and thrashes against the grapple of the Noir cultist behind him, but of course his strength doesn't match hers. _" **SOMEBODY HELP-!** "_ he tries to yell before she slaps both her palms over his face, muffling his exclamations.

The other cultist lifts up her mask a bit and sheathes Noah's shaft, completely exposed thanks to the SWAT team's undressing, with her mouth while sinking five of her fingertips into the underside of his scrotum to harmlessly scratch and fondle it. The perfectly calculated blowjob dilutes his calls for help into mellow moans of an unwelcome satisfaction, to such an extent that the Noir member from behind doesn't even need to gag him anymore. Thus, she takes after her partner's example of baring her lips by scooching her mask up so she can nibble Noah's nape. In the meanwhile, she also slips her arms underneath his sweatshirt so it rides all the way up to his neck and exposes his nipples, which she starts churning and twisting without a sliver of mercy. His eyes immediately roll into the back of his head whilst five sensations show him no mercy: the soppy paintbrush of the first follower's tongue glossing the erogenous zones on his neck, two piercing masochistic pleasures boiling in his chest through each his nipples, the dark and wet cave of the second's mouth wagging up and down the veins of his cock, and five fingernails acting as acupuncture for his sack as it ferments a vigorous orgasm.

This orgasm isn't seen, however, as the apostle on her knees spawncamps it and sucks every cell of sperm Noah has left in his balls, using his urethra as a straw. One cultist's lips detach from his crotch and the other from his scruff, who then shoves Noah to the ground and towards the camera so he fills the screen as he lands on his hands and knees. He swivels around onto his rear and Noir has disappeared off-screen as quickly and mysterious as they appeared. Like ghosts. Noah fiercely darts his head around his whole apartment from behind the kitchen counter, in desperate search for something to humanize them. Saliva, footprints, moved furniture, anything. But nothing. They've left not a trace. He's survived a hit, he was almost mutilated into a vegetable, he was swatted, he had his home invaded, all within an hour... After basking in the terror of getting fucked by the seventh psychotic woman tonight alone, in addition to the knowledge that all of these criminals are in the world and have gotten off scot-free, Noah takes a deep breath, surely about to go off on an emotional breakdown of a rant. He's not even given that, however, as there's another knock knock knock. This time it's his parents returning home, from the sounds of it.

 _"Noah honey!"_ the sweet voice of a middle-aged mother sings from behind the door. _"We're home! Be a dear and unlock the door for us please, our arms are loaded with groceries!"_

 _"Uh, coming, Mom!"_ Noah shouts before giving you a rushed sendoff, this time in a whisper. _"Sorry for the crappy video this week, guys, I know I only spent five minutes on the actual Shadow Web, the rest was just been me getting...Ugh... I'm debating on whether or not I should even bother uploading this. I'll try harder next time, I promise, just...Later..."_

Your host quickly shuts the camera off so the video clocks in at 29:51, only a few seconds before his screen recorder ran out of space anyways.


End file.
